Hell & High Water
by mmerainbows
Summary: Kurt counted the days even though no one else did. His dad died eight years ago, and his life was monotonous as he hunted for the community he lived in. Long gone were the days when he could dabble in music and fashion because that world no longer existed. Until the day an emergency transmission is received and what Kurt is forced to reconsider what is existing and what is living.
1. Foreword

_**"If there is magic on this planet, it is contained in water." - Loren Eiseley**_

A few years ago I got my mail and was excited to see the latest issue of National Geographic. Generally I love the magazine because it occupies me when I'm in the bathroom and it has excellent pictures and infographics which are priceless to teachers. In this issue however, titled Water: Our Thirsty World, they showed the demand of water for humans and the lengths people go to in order to obtain their water needs. Juxtaposed to that was how much water was consumed in the process of things we take for granted - like clothing and food.

Because I've taught biology and chemistry, I already know how special water is. It defies rules that other compounds adhere to, and is a necessary component for life. On top of that, I was also reading The World Without Us by Alan Weisman and already in an imaginative mood. Thus I came up with the concept of a world where humans had been forced away from the major bodies of water - which goes against how humans have settled throughout most of history.

It's a story concept I've become so attached to that I have several booklets full of character sketches and traits, possible situations and conflicts, as well as notes taken from survival guides and science references, but I'm still not skilled enough as a writer to take the first steps to writing that independent story.

As such, since this community has been so supportive of the fan-fiction I've written thus far, and because there are so many fellow authors whose constructive criticisms have helped tailor my writing, I thought I'd bring my world to the world of Klaine. Unlike my own story, the focus of course will be centered more on our boys and less on the fantastical elements of the world, however I'm hoping to get feedback on what people think of the world that will help me continue to build on the idea.

Part I is mostly complete as of the writing of this foreword, and if there is enough interest, I will happily continue to write this tale into Part's II and III.

I'd like to thank the community for giving me the chance to hone my writing skills on their fan-fiction hungry selves, the show itself for having been a light in a dark time of my life, and, of course, Chris Colfer and Darren Criss for both being amazing at what they do and give to us, but also for showing me that creativity is never a pointless venture.

I would also like to especially thank my beta-reader and friend SabbyPandawan/Stormwitha6lettername for keeping me occupied with RP and helping me stay sane in general.

At the end of part I, I will post a "chapter" with the trading cards already available on my tumblr that I made for this fanfic.


	2. Chapter 1: Exposition

"_**You don't drown by falling in the water; you drown by staying there." - **__**Edwin Louis Cole**_

It was the ten year anniversary of the day the world changed for humanity. At least, Kurt was pretty sure it was. He was one of the few people who tried to still count time by days instead of seasons, finding the ambiguity of season ends and beginnings too discomforting. He knew he was probably off - because of days lost to sickness, travelling, or leap years - but he was sure he was close.

Not that anyone else was going to care. They certainly weren't going to celebrate the fact. People were too busy in the community preparing for the oncoming winter. They needed to increase their food stores to get through it and the harvest this year hadn't been spectacular. It was up to people like Kurt and other scavengers to go to the abandoned cities and collect what they could from a time past.

Currently though, Kurt was waiting in a line to get his water ration for the day. Water was what was precious in this new world. They couldn't live near any major bodies of water, like humanity had for thousands of years, so they lived off rainwater and the occasional underground source they'd discover. Winter was better in terms of having water because the farmers would collect the snow and let it melt in the basins and cisterns they kept their water stores in. There was never a shortage of snow in this place during the winter. He still hadn't been able to pinpoint the exact location on any of the maps he kept in his shack, but he was positive they were in what used to be Canada, somewhere in central Saskatchewan.

Wherever it was - it was a safe haven for them. Far enough away from major waterways and the oceans that The Others appeared to be disinterested in taking it over, and the people here along with it. They could live here, in some semblance of their former existences, without being ruled or killed by those that changed all of their lives.

The Tides was what changed life for everyone on earth those ten years ago. The Tides brought The Others - who ruthlessly overtook all the major coastal cities first before following the rivers to continue their conquest.

Kurt had been at a William McKinley high school information night with his dad when the sirens went off. What had turned into a night where he was checking out the high school he would be attending in the fall had turned out to be the beginning of his new life. When the sirens went off and the warnings were broadcast over all TV signals and radio signals, Kurt and his dad had fled. Initially the plan was to get somewhere remote. Somewhere that wasn't populated so they were less likely to be found. That plan changed when humans realized that The Others were only interested in securing the major water sources. Kurt and his father joined up with others from Lima and headed north, to where the geography teacher from William McKinley, who was in their group, said there was fewer links to the ocean and very few waterways compared to the rest of the continent.

That geography teacher had died during the year they slowly travelled north in vehicles that ran out of gas too soon causing them to have to continue on foot. The teacher had Celiac's disease, and when you were scavenging for food wherever and however you could, special diets couldn't be taken into consideration. Malnutrition was the culprit, at least according to the nurse that was in their group. That nurse had survived and now ran their pseudo clinic in the community along with a midwife who had joined the community a few years ago. With them was Micheal Chang, who was apprenticing under both of them to be another medic for the community. Whenever Kurt and the other scavengers went to local cities, they would see if there were any medical books they could bring back for them, to help improve the quality of health care they had there.

The community wasn't suppose to be a long term thing - at least, that's what everyone had kept telling themselves and everyone else in the beginning. It was safe though. A remnant of a time long gone, when the railroad was the major means of travel and towns sprung up along it. When this railroad had been abandoned though, the metal railway ties reclaimed by the company to use elsewhere, the town had dried up. It had been a ghost town. Now it was their home.

Most of the old buildings had been fixed up as people moved into them and they were earmarked for certain uses. The old saloon became the dinner hall, where the chefs in the town ruled. The old bank was a trading hub, run by people who couldn't do anything very physical. The doctors office was still a doctor's office, where the nurse, midwife, and the medical apprentice kept their supplies and worked out of.

A brothel, or it was a brothel, functioned as an old folks home. Those who couldn't do much to help anymore because of their age, or just poor health lived there. They didn't live too long out here. It was cold, and none of the creature comforts that might have kept them alive in the past existed anymore. People didn't have time to visit them - too busy collecting water and resources each and every day. Some angry murmurs would arise every now and then - those who think the elderly and impaired should be euthanised so they don't drain resources they can't hope to contribute to. It was always silenced though. People remembered their humanity and continued on.

Lots of the other buildings became makeshift apartments for the families that settled here. Additional rooms and buildings were constructed around them so that the majority of the community's population was right on the main street of the old ghost town.

Except for Kurt.

Kurt had constructed his own little shack about fifteen minutes outside of the town limits, alone and quiet. That was how he kept himself safe. It was just one room, and that was all Kurt needed since he was only ever there to wash himself, sleep, and occasionally read. Tucked in amidst a group of trees at the edge of a nearby forest, Kurt was protected from a lot of the winds that came during blizzards, and the snow didn't pile up so much around his little home because so much of it caught on the tree branches above the shack. He had a small fire pit in the centre to help keep him warm, and his bed was a stack of deer pelts from all the hunting he did. It certainly didn't have the give his bed back in Lima did, but it was definitely warm in the winter.

Everything else was stacked. His few clothes, his tailoring and mechanic supplies, and his bow and arrows. It seemed silly to him now how much time he had spent concerning himself with fashion before The Tides. It definitely wasn't a concern now. Clothing had to be functional. Warm and durable and comfortable - nothing less or more. His dad would have been amused to see how many flannel shirts Kurt now kept - acquisitions from scavenging trips. His dad…

His dad died two years after The Tides. It was just when they had settled here and the two of them were living in one of the rooms of an old hotel. His dad had a heart attack, and despite all of the efforts of the nurse, he died there. The nurse had told him that if they had a hospital, if they had the medical supplies, if they had an ambulance to get him there, then maybe, just maybe, his dad would have pulled through.

After that was when Kurt built his own shack, away from everyone else. He was alone, with no family, and no friends to speak of at that point in time. He still mourned for his dad, but he knew he wasn't special. Everyone out here had lost people. Some had lost whole families. You just kept on going, creating a life that was, at the most, acceptable.

The skills his father had taught him growing up became more valuable than his knowledge of fashion or Broadway. He helped work on cars and vans in the early days of the community, before they ran out of gasoline to fuel the vehicles. Now he mainly serviced the solar generators they had for the chefs and medics to use. Occasionally he tinkered with one of the old, abandoned vehicles too - but only as a means to remember his dad. Nowadays, they used horses and their own feet to get from place to place.

Everyone in the community had roles to play. There were the chefs, the caretakers, farmers, guards, and scavengers. Kurt was a few things in the community. Because of his time spent in his dad's shop, he was considered the local mechanic - even though each passing year led them to having fewer and fewer motors to take care of. In addition he had taught himself how to hunt and track, which kept him busy every day to make sure there was enough food for everyone, and allowed him to substitute himself as a guard when they were short. He also participated in the scavenging efforts.

Scavenging was dangerous - at least it was in theory. It took them to the cities, which ran the risk of having them encounter The Others. However, in the past ten years, they had only caught sight of one of The Others once, and they had all ran before they even saw if that one had seen them in return. Kurt hadn't even seen it for himself, running based on the word of one of his comrades. The Others were dangerous, with powers no human could have fathomed outside of fairy tales, and they didn't seem to have a lot of regard for humans given how quickly they cut the ones down who lived on the coasts. Humanity was scattered now. Their own community, as they were told by nomadic groups, was the largest that seemed to exist now in North America. Occasionally they took in some of those nomads, but only if it was agreed upon by every member of the community. They had yet to say no to anyone who wanted to join, but everyone still wanted their say regardless.

New additions to the community were the best source of information on how things were everywhere else. Over the years they had found out that most people lived nomadically, or in very small groups - usually family based. Scavenging was still the main way people got their food, and the fact that the community had set up small farms to grow their own vegetables was unheard of. Their methods of capturing and storing water too were unprecedented. All rainwater they could collect, was collected - in everything from large basins to pots. It was then kept in water bottles which could be refilled after use. They rationed it out, even when they didn't necessarily need to after a big blizzard which brought tons of snow down, so there was always a surplus just in case.

The downside was that most people in the community only ever washed themselves down every two to three days. Kurt was probably the only one who dedicated part of his daily water ration to sponging himself off. He still, after everything, could not stand to be dirty for longer than absolutely necessary. He even used soap daily.

Part of it was he didn't want to get sick. The few times Kurt had come down with a cold or flu, he had been trapped in his bed, alone with his thoughts and he was the first to admit he wasn't good company. His mind would float between the past and the present. Remembering how things used to be, and what they had become. How even in this new world, he was still an outcast - though for different reasons. His former self seemed so naive to him now. Back then he was worried about fitting in, and making it big one day on Broadway. Broadway, which he was sure didn't even exist anymore since it was on the coast. What he did miss though was the hope he used to have. The hope that things would get better for a kid like him.

On the road to the community, he had told his dad he was gay, and his dad had been fine with it. It didn't really matter anymore if someone was gay or lesbian or transgendered… they were all humans, and as wonderful as it was that people finally seemed to realize that, it was because The Others had come. You were human or you weren't and that was it.

However, he was teased still - not for being gay or for his high pitched voice, but because of his pale skin and the arches in his ears. They weren't pointed by any means, but it was enough for some of the other kids he would have gone to school with to exclude him and call him an Other.

Depending on who you spoke to, the Others had different names - The Serpents, Hellborn, Demons… it didn't matter really to Kurt. To Kurt, they were the source of humanity's suffering and that was that. However, even though The Others apparently had different skin tones, according to the people they took into the community, the ones that had been seen those first days on TV were pale, like Kurt.

He had been bullied, out of sight from his dad, during the long trek to the north. The other kids had called him an Other, a demon bastard, and other hateful things because of the color of his skin and the fact that he had those damned high arches in his ears. He had even started wearing ballcaps to hide the tops of his ears.

They had laid off once Burt had died, at least… some did for awhile. But now, even eight years after his father's death, he was mostly ignored by most people in the community - even when they wanted his technical help. So he lived alone, away from all of them, free to do what he wanted when he wanted.

It wasn't all bad though. From turning in his hunting kills, he had made friends with Brittany, one of the chefs. She was a persistently chipper woman with blonde hair always held back in a long braid so it wouldn't get into the food she made. Making friends with Brittany led him to befriending Santana, a fellow guard and scavenger, who was Brittany's pair.

In the community, since marriage was no longer a legal issue, people paired up when they decided to commit to one another. Most people had paired off, since having sex was now one of the few pleasures left in life and people were more than happy to commit to someone who wanted to share that particular act with them.

Kurt however, was on his own in that regard too. The only other person he had discovered to also be gay was one of his former tormentors, David Karofsky, and even though David was much kinder to him now, Kurt couldn't forget some of the things David had said and done to him in those early years. He still had the scars.

Kurt was also friendly with another hunter, Quinn, and her pair Noah. Quinn had gotten pregnant while they were all still on the road and not long after they settled in the community, had given birth to a daughter - Beth. Quinn had said on several occasions to Kurt that if they had still been living in that old time, that a teen pregnancy would have been frowned upon and she probably would have had to give Beth up. Kurt suspected that Quinn was actually thankful on some level for the changes that had occurred in the world because it meant that Beth's birth was celebrated by the community as a miracle, and no one ever questioned Quinn and Noah becoming parents so young.

Now and then, Kurt would watch Beth for Noah and Quinn when they were scheduled at the same time. Noah was a guard and had a set rotation schedule while Quinn was busiest during the spring hunts - which sometimes meant they both needed to be away at the same time. In the beginning, it was difficult. Kurt had never babysat when he was younger, but he took to it quickly and according to Noah and Quinn, Beth took to him, so he always offered his help when it was needed. Now that she was eight, Kurt didn't get the chance to watch Beth anymore and missed her sassy attitude which Kurt appreciated more than her parents did. It was interesting to watch her grow up in this new world where it was all just normal to her. She would never know or understand how things were before this.

That was true of all the kids in the community. There weren't that many children as most pairs didn't want to bring up a child in this new world and, to that end, condoms and other forms of birth control were always in huge demand. The ones that did exist were doted on by everyone though, and were all taught by one of his would be classmates, Rachel Berry, and her pair Finn Hudson.

They had set up a little one-room school house a few years ago when it had become clear that this town was more than a temporary home. All the children attended during the day while their parents worked. The curriculum wasn't unlike what could be expected at a school back when he was younger, but with the addition of concepts like 'How to Collect Water', 'How to Avoid Others' and 'Animal Identification'.

The majority of the community was between twenty and sixty. All the advances in medicine humanity had attained in the last few hundred years were done with. People no longer lived as long, infant mortality was high, and children under five also had a high mortality rate. Without the drugs, vaccines, and other medical developments people had been accustomed to in the old world, they had a hard time staying alive when they were little, and lasting as long when old age ailments got them. The few who did survive were weak and stayed in that repurposed brothel, watching everyone work around them while they waited for death.

In the first few years, they had lost many people not because of cancer, or sickness, but from suicide. When it became clear this was their new existence, that there was no one to save them from this, that's when people lost their minds.

Water was precious, but so was sanity.

That had tapered off though, and the people lost were replaced over time by those that stumbled upon their community and wanted to stay with them. The bodies were burned and the names etched into a wooden wall they had erected to honor those who were gone.

His dad's name was on there.

Kurt gave his head a shake and took another step forward in the line. Thinking about his dad was still hard for him, even so long after. It was why he kept himself so busy. Hunting, scavenging, baby-sitting, tailoring, mechanic work, and any odd jobs he could help out with. Aside from his small circle of friends though, it was largely thankless work. Not that Kurt was expecting thanks because someone had to do it, and without any family waiting for him at his home, he had the time to give.

At one point, he had even considered trying to push away his natural inclination towards guys in order to pair off with a woman. That's what Karofsky had done. It wasn't so much for the sex as it was for the companionship anyhow. Someone to relax with and share your troubles. Someone to keep you warm and wanted at night. Maybe even someone to have a child with. Start a family.

Another step towards his ration.

But no, starting a family would be irresponsible. As much as he loves the kids in the community, he still doesn't feel safe in this new world, and how could he bring a child into a world that isn't safe? If The Others didn't eventually find them, then there was still a multitude of other things that could end them. Sickness, lack of supplies, lack of proper sanitation, and the biker gangs.

Whereas most humans were happy to survive and live after the others came, some took the extra step and formed small gang units - plundering and stealing what they could from other humans as they decided their lives were more important.

It was the reason the community had guards posted all the time. Not actually because of The Others - because, quite frankly, if they came no human guard would be able to stop them. On their travels to the settlement they had encountered and been mugged by many biker gangs who stole their gas, their food, and anything else they deemed worthy. Some were more ruthless than others and even took advantage of some of the women and young girls.

In the community itself, biker gangs had only come close a few times. How they still managed to find good fuel was a mystery for Kurt, especially after the first three years, but they came to the community demanding food and supplies and always ended up turning around when they saw the arrows and knives pointed at them from all directions.

He made it to the head of the line, accepted his three bottles from Tina, a general worker, thanked her and started back to his shack. He was meeting several others later today for a scavenging in one of the towns they hadn't visited much, one they hoped still had something of value to bring back.

The air was tinged with just a hint of cold. Winter would be coming soon and it reminded Kurt that he needed to make himself new gloves. The ones he had been wearing had holes worn through where he held his bow and string while hunting in the winter. Wearing gloves while hunting made him aim poorer, but cold fingers wasn't something he tolerated well. He should probably repad his boots while he was at it.

That was the trade off of course though. This cold climate, where winter ruled half the year and so much time was spent stoking fires and bundling up in excessive layers, in exchange for better access to water through the snow, and the safety of a location set apart from waterways.

Kurt was a decent shot though. Growing up it was something that had never crossed his mind to do - hunting anyhow. Now, each year in the little competitions they held in the community, Kurt won the archery contest. There was no prize, other than the prestige of being the best anyhow, but it was something that gave him a little bit of respect anyhow. Enough that people had stopped bugging him about his skin tone, which had just gotten even more pale moving to a sun-lacking location, and his stupid ears.

He still wore hats to hide them, though now they had the added function of keeping his head and ears warm.

Even if the old wive's tale was true that hats made you bald.

It wasn't like he had anyone to impress out here anyhow.

When he returned to his shack, he hung his jacket up on the nail protruding by the doorway in the wall. The shack only gave him a few inches of headroom - he had built this place as simply as possible, not thinking it would still be his home so long after. Every year he patched the holes in the walls with clay from below the dirt and put a new ceiling on it since he hadn't figured out how to stop the ceilings from sagging and warping over time. Aside from the pit in the center of the small room, he had the dirt floor covered with a few carpets he had brought back with him during scavenging. The bed took up the whole area to the right of the door, and everything else was on the left.

Kurt discarded his clothes then on the bed, stripped naked in the middle of his little home and shivered while he poured one of the bottles into a pot which was sitting on the coals of his firepit. Time to wash.

He grabbed a cloth and a sliver of soap and then dipped the cloth into the warming water, wiping it up and down his body in well practiced strokes, covering himself entirely before using his soap sliver to rub bubbles into his more needy areas - face, pits, and crotch, before taking the cloth to the water again, now much warmer, and washing that soap off with the water on the cloth.

He remembers being in elementary school and the teacher telling them all about saving and conserving water. The kids in the class would agree to turn off the taps when they weren't being used and only water their gardens once a week - even though most of those promises were broken within a few days. Now no one wastes any drops. When Kurt finishes his bath, he puts his dirty socks into the pot. The water is shallow, but it's enough to get them clean. Socks are worth their weight in gold here. A good pair is well taken care of because they discovered in the first year here that no one wants to endure frostbite in their toes.

God he would kill for even a cold thirty second shower now.

His fear of being sick is what kept him away from apprenticing with the group of medics in town. He was singled out a few years ago as having the intellect for it, and the steady hands, but he couldn't stomach having to deal with death so closely. It was one of the factors that kept him from getting too close to anyone aside from his small pack of friends. He didn't want to have to mourn anyone as deeply as he had, and still did, his parents.

Everyone had changed like that though. Quinn, who had been a beautiful little princess years ago, was now hard and tough, her hair always cropped short so it didn't get in her way. Santana had always been lean and strong, but now she had the scars to prove herself. Noah was the strongest of them all, if only because he had the build and bone structure to support having that much muscle. Finn, once a naive and chubby boy was now hardened by reality and solidly built. Mike, who used to entertain everyone with his ability to dance, was now only letting his fingers move so nimbly as he worked on patients and tried helping with emergency surgeries. Brittany… well she was still as cheerful and kind as ever, but when you looked her in the eyes closely enough, you could see the sadness behind them.

This was how they adapted. In the end they were only one type of animal on this planet, and now subject to the rule of the superior species - the Others.

* * *

"Anything in there?" Kurt barked back into the shop where Santana and Quinn were scouring for any medicine they could find.

"Not even a bloody tylenol. It looks like someone else has been through here… but who knows how long ago…" was the grumbled reply. Kurt nodded and kept looking through the broken window. He was keeping his eyes open for any patrols, or anything even remotely threatening.

Like last year, when of all things, a wolf had jumped into the store they were going through and tried to get a bite out of Santana. Quinn took it down before it laid a tooth against her skin, and that night they ate wolf. It had a very odd flavour - but the variety was appreciated.

The cities and towns had been reclaimed by the earth, and the only ones who stayed in them anymore, at least as far as Kurt had seen, were the animals who had made dens out of many old homes and shops. While the Others patrolled out here, they never camped in the cities. Rumors suggested that their camps were under the water. Quite frankly, Kurt didn't care where they camped - so long as they stayed away.

A few more minutes of shuffling and digging in the rooms behind them and the girls reappeared, "Not a damn thing. Let's check out another site."

Kurt nodded, and waited until Santana led the way. She always went first. That's how it was. She was the most elite guard among them, so she would get the first shot at any kills.

That being said, they were always careful, and while Santana had scars from animals and human gangs they had encountered during scavenging, she had none from the Others. They never took that risk if they could help it. The closest they had come was three years ago, when Quinn said she could see them rising from the river. They took off immediately when she had said it. There was nothing to be gained by sticking around to confirm it.

The next establishment they went into was one of those pharmacies that doubled as a gift shop. He remembered how his mother would take him to one like it when he was younger, sniffing the perfumes and talking about which figurines they preferred while the pharmacist got her prescription ready.

This one though look like a riot had passed through it - which it probably had. When the Others invaded the cities, people grabbed what they could. Those who were left living after the first strikes raided stores for things they thought would be valuable. Over time, human gangs and other communities did raids of their own. Eventually these old cities would have nothing left to offer them and then they would all truly live off the land like their ancestors had.

In the meantime, the girls would gather what little they could find while Kurt kept their eyes open and alert. Kurt always had his bow readied, and at the end of the day he knew his arm would be sore from the pressure put on it so continuously, but again, it wasn't worth the risk not to.

"Ooo.. some amoxicillin." Quinn preened from the back room where she had gone to gather anything she could find. Kurt smirked a little. Ten years ago, no one would have been excited to have found penicillin lying around, now it was like a miracle.

They discovered a few more items that the medics would be happy about, as well as some chocolate bars - which were really not that exciting. If there was one thing that had lasted through The Tides, it was prepackaged junk food. He remembered living off the stuff while on their journey north. He could really do without it - especially since they no longer had dentists and dental plans to take care of their teeth.

A few more items were stuffed into their packs - toothbrushes (thank goodness), soap (could never get enough of that), nail polish (apparently the girls still wanted to look pretty), baby formula (most women breastfed when they had their babies, but they found the formula was useful for those really sick who couldn't eat whole food), as well as a myriad of other odds and ends.

Then there was the real miracle.

"Tampons!" Shrieked Santana, holding up a box triumphantly.

"Santana… I will give you all my chocolate bars and a water bottle for that." Quinn immediately offered as she moved towards Santana to see the item in question.

"Oh hell no. This is mine. I am going to forgo stinky old nappies this month I tell you what!" Santana made a little whoop and Quinn grumbled under her breath about selfish bitches.

"Both of you, just shut up. Do you want to draw attention to us?"

"Maybe if it gets Santana killed so I can have those…" Quinn uttered under her breath, tossing Santana another irritated glance which was returned with a smug, cocky smile as Santana put the box into her backpack.

"Next!" Santana declared once she had packed away her prize and led them down to the next store, and the next, and the next - until their bags were all full and night was creeping up on them.

They found an apartment building and set themselves up in a room on the top floor, where they could eat take turns watching out the window throughout the night - not that it stopped Kurt from tossing and turning. He was never settled when they were in a city. He loved his friends, but didn't trust his own safety enough with them watching out for him.

It was always depressing going into someone's home, seeing their pictures, and the remnants of their life. Wondering if they were some of the few to get away, or some of the many to be swallowed up by the waters. There were no bodies when The Tides came - they were all taken back by the oceans, seas, and waterways.

In this house were pictures of a young woman, long brunette hair and dark brown eyes, always with a younger male version of herself. Were they brother and sister? he wondered. She didn't look that old after all. Or maybe she was his mother and maybe that would explain the tiny apartment with no indication of a father anywhere.

Whoever they were, they were long gone.

Kurt took the first watch, and his friends passed looks between themselves knowingly. Too often Kurt would take the first watch and then allow the second and third watch to be skipped while he stayed up. He would let them sleep since he wouldn't be able to.

But they were also long past fighting with him on the issue. If there was one thing he was, it was stubborn. He wouldn't eat the fattiest parts of a kill even if there was nothing else left to eat, he never let himself sleep past sunrise, and he never 'took it easy' despite how many of the mother hens of the community insisted he did. He was always there to help out and contribute as much as he could. If he died from working too much, it would be alright. He hadn't paired off, so he could do that extra bit to help out.

Before his friends dropped off to sleep, Quinn turned on the walkie talkie and sent a message back to the community to check in, and also make sure all was well there. After years of not being attacked, they were still insanely vigilant about making sure all was alright still. They had all lost one home, they didn't want to lose another, and Quinn had a daughter to look out for now.

Then it was silent aside from the light snores from his friends and the bugs and birds that made the occasional chirrup or creek. Sometimes he would hear a wolf or coyote howl, but otherwise he was alone with the night.

Looking at the city at night was nothing like looking out of his shack at night. He could play pretend in his mind. Envision this place without all the plant overgrowth and with people walking up and down the streets, cars honking and driving all around, and no sign of danger anywhere.

Sometimes he would put himself out there in his fantasies. Sometimes he would be the music store owner, helping match people to the music that moved them. Sometimes he was a tailor, making clothing that made people look better than they thought they could ever look as it hid all their imperfections. Sometimes he was a barista, running around like crazy to fill everyone's coffee orders.

In all his fantasies, there was someone to go home to, and his dad was alive and remarried, having met some wonderful woman that made him happy and took care of him so Kurt felt okay about leaving the nest to go live with a boyfriend. Sometimes he envisioned celebrities as his boyfriend, sometimes just random people. No matter what though, his fantasies always had him feeling loved from that person, and he was always eager to go home to them.

When he was feeling especially adventurous, Kurt would also imagine a home with children. His father would visit and swing a little girl up in his arms, laughing with delight while Kurt readied a big supper, complaining to his boyfriend about how they needed a bigger place to seat everyone while the imagined boyfriend would laugh it off and pat him on the back.

Then Kurt could come back to his own reality - fatherless, boyfriendless, and definitely childless. His home barely fit him, let alone anyone else, and he hadn't cooked for himself in what seemed like ages. He seemed to recall enjoying baking as a means to soothe himself when he was upset. Now he had to settle for shooting rabbits with an arrow.

He also wouldn't know how a real job would work. He had been too young when The Tides began to understand how the economy really functioned. As far as he knew, you did a job, you got paid, and then you spent that money on things you wanted. The older members of the community sometimes joked about how grand it was not to have to pay a mortgage or a car loan anymore, but somehow Kurt felt he'd rather be paying those things than existing as he did.

And it was just existing. He didn't know how to define it, but there was a difference between existing and living, and he knew he was doing more of the former than the latter.

He leaned into the shelf of the window, keeping an eye out. This was a small town though, and they hadn't even run into any animals, let alone any people. It was actually quite peaceful. Perhaps they'd bring the horses back here and use them and the wagon to haul some mattresses and other larger items back to the community. It didn't seem like anyone had been there in quite some time.

But of course, Kurt thought that too soon.

In the distance he could see a rise of dust in the air, and a loud hum that grew as the dust came closer to the town. He called back to the girls who got up without question and grabbed their weapons while he watched through the window.

It wasn't coming from the direction of the river this town had been built along, it was from the other direction, and that humming.

Had to be a gang.

"Can you estimate how many there are of them?" Santana asked as she looked over Kurt's shoulder to the group heading their way.

He squinted, something was off about this particular group. For starters, those engines didn't sound like motorcycle engines, and the build of the machine's they were riding were too wide.

But he could pick out individual riders from this distance, not their faces or any other details, but he could see each of the individual dots they made on the landscape.

"We're looking at about twenty. Builds suggest most or all of them are male. Better to just hide out and hope they pass through. Let the community know - though... they don't look like they'll be heading in the direction of the community."

Quinn immediately got on the walkie talkie while Santana squatted and watched through the window with Kurt. It quickly became clear why things were off when the gang started coming closer, they weren't riding motorcycles, they were riding all-terrain vehicles (ATV's). That was new. Kurt squinted to get a closer look. They were indeed all men, or at least, some of them might have been ugly women. Their ATV's were all colors and brands and each one looked like it had been personalized with names on the sides that Kurt couldn't make out. He reminded himself they needed to find a new pair of binoculars one of these days since the last pair had fallen out of a tall window when Santana had dropped them while she argued with Quinn about who was on watch while Kurt went to relieve himself. If they weren't so good at what they respectively did, Kurt wouldn't have put up with it.

The group stopped and parked their ATV's as if they were regular vehicles back in a time when how you parked mattered. They were at the edge of the town, though on the same street, and still a ways away from where Kurt and the girls were camped.

"If they go into that store, we go out the back of this building and run to the horses." Kurt ordered.

There was no argument, and as Santana and Kurt watched each and every one of the gang go into the shop at the end of the street, they made a mad dash down the stairs and out the back of the apartment. They didn't stop and they didn't look back until they reached their destination - the nearby forest where the horses were in the makeshift corral they had made for them.

As Kurt pulled himself up on one of the horses, he glanced back to the town, confirming they hadn't been followed and probably weren't seen while Quinn and Santana were already riding their horses away.

They were safe for now.


	3. Chapter 2: Transmission

_**Nothing is softer or more flexible than water, yet nothing can resist it. - Lao Tzu**_

"_Help…*bzzzz* … someone help! *bzzzz* Can anyone out there hear me? *bzzzzz* My friend, he's hurt. *bzzzzz* Is there anyone who can hear this? *bzzzzzz* He's in so much pain and his leg…. *bzzzzzzz* Please someone….."_

The transmission kept going in the background of the trading hub where representatives from each of the major groups in the community were meeting to discuss it. Kurt kept an ear on the desperate pleas of the man who had been trying to get someone to respond to him for well over an hour now. Every now and then another voice would pipe in, usually to tell the man on the frequency that it was hopeless or that there was no one else up in this area.

It wasn't that there wasn't, it was just that they first had to come to an agreement as to whether they even would respond.

Paranoia was high. Even though the man in the transmission was clearly upset, people wondered if it was an act. A gang perhaps that wanted to get into the community and were trying to lure them into a trap.

"It has to be those guys we saw on those quads yesterday Kurt." Quinn noted from where she sat beside Noah who had Beth in his lap. Young Beth, who, tried as they might to get her off to home, always forced her way into these conversations citing that she was the representative of the children in the community. It was questionable on whether or not she was elected into that position or just assumed the role. Whatever the case, she took it seriously. Sitting there, stone faced as she listened to the transmission and the adults arguing overhead, Kurt could see the wheels turning in her head.

"It's plausible but it could be another group…" Kurt responded to Quinn. The group on ATV's could have left the area and some other group could be around. Nothing he had heard on the transmission had noted how many people were there, or what they were riding, or even what their position was. The amount of static suggested that they were close or along the circumference of the signal frequency - almost out of range. If it had been the group on ATV's, and they had continued south from the town, then Kurt could narrow down where the signal was coming from.

"_God it's swollen up so much… *bzzzz*... We're almost out of painkillers to give him….*bzzzz* Can anyone hear me out there? *bzzzz* __**Just give it up Blaine! **__*bzzzz* You have any better ideas Sebastian?! *bzzzz* Is there anyone out there?"_

"We can't risk it guys. What if there's a whole group there ready to attack us and take our stuff?" Santana snipped. She was one of the ones against responding clearly.

"But what if they do just need help?" Brittany asked of her, doe-eyed.

"Then they deal with it themselves. I'm not risking my hide or yours to help some stranger!"

"If the guy is hurt and his leg is swelling, it could be anything from an infection to a break." Mike noted, having been tuned to the broadcast until that point, writing down notes about what the speaker, Blaine, had been saying about his apparently wounded friend. "He could need something as simple as a cast, or as difficult as an amputation. Problem is, even a cast requires him to be brought back here so we can use that x-ray machine we have hooked up. No way the machinery can travel."

Rumblings and sighs went around the room. It wasn't just about going out there now, it was about going out there and bringing some stranger back.

"In a worst case scenario, we need to decide now what we're doing though - because if there is an infection in the blood, he needs medical attention as soon as possible." Mike added, the chorus of grumblings increasing as a result.

"Let him die then. I don't want to risk my family to someone stupid enough to get hurt out in the world." Noah grunted, one of his hands on Quinn's shoulder, the other on Beth's.

"There's already few enough of us humans left in the world and you're talking about letting one more die? Like they're nothing?" Mercedes retorted. Hands on her hips, she was clearly in a defensive position. Mercedes oversaw most of the workers in the community, making shift schedules and deciding on priorities. She was a bulldog when it came to getting her way and everyone knew not to cross her. She might have been strict, but she was also generally right.

"What do you think Kurt?" Quinn asked then, looking over to him where he was leaned up against the wall, hands rested on the top of his bow he had standing in front of him with his head balanced on those hands as he listened in to everyone.

Kurt sighed softly, looking around at the eyes focused on him, and then to the radio receiver, still blaring the voice of Blaine, "I think that I can't make that call but I will support whatever decision is made."

Some eye-rolls, some gaped mouths, and a lot of evident frustration was the result of that statement and everyone went back to arguing as Kurt again listened in.

In his heart, he knew the right choice, the moral choice, was helping the young man, if indeed he was truly hurt and it wasn't a ploy to steal resources. That's what his dad would have expected of him, and his mother too for that matter. They had always opened their doors and their hearts to those in need. When he was five, they had taken in one of Burt's employees and his family when the bank had taken their home after the wife had gotten ill and couldn't work, leading to them being unable to pay their bills. For the few months it took that family to get back on their feet, the Hummel house was crowded and incessantly noisy. Kurt was too young to appreciate why he suddenly had to share a room with the booger-eating son of his dad's employee, and made his complaints known. He regretted making those complaints as soon as he got older and more attuned to how the world wasn't fair. He never did get the chance to tell either his mom or dad how that event had educated him more on their values then anything they ever said to him directly. How much they must have sacrificed of their own income and privacy in order to help another set of human beings.

In his mind, he knew it wasn't such an easy choice though. There were a lot of people in this community, and if it was a set-up, they were risking more than just resources. People's lives were at stake. Some humans had become ruthless in the aftermath of The Tides, living only for themselves at the cost of those around them. Raping and killing had happened to more than one small group that had joined the community - always from a human gang, and Kurt wasn't about to let anything happen to any of the people he had vowed to protect here. Even if they were being honest about what was going on in that transmission, they had to consider that it was almost winter and taking in another group would come at a cost, especially if it was that group of twenty riders they had seen yesterday. That would be a huge drain on their resources.

"Just stop fighting!" Beth abruptly yelled then, pulling Kurt out of his thoughts and silencing everyone else. Her small body was packed with such a loud voice. On more than one occasion, Finn had noted she had leadership qualities, and hearing her then, Kurt knew that one of those qualities must be getting everyone's attention.

When everyone was looking at her, Beth started speaking. "This is stupid. You should be going to help. Missus Jones is right. There's only so many humans left and if you let one die you're all gonna teach me and the other kids that letting other humans die is okay."

"Beth, sweetie, that's not -" Quinn started and stopped when Beth glowered at her mother, clearly not alright with being interrupted. They exchanged looks for a moment, ones that Kurt couldn't read and were simply silent communication between mother and child before Beth went on.

"Just take the toughest people to help so if it is a trap they can beat 'em and only bring the hurt guy back here if it isn't - 'cause it's not like he'd be able to do much if he's hurt anyhow. Mister Chang said you don't have a lot of time. So stop fighting like toddlers and go help people!"

The indignant looking eight year old crossed her arms over her chest, looking around the room and waiting for anyone to challenge her on the matter. Adults looked between one another silently until Mike finally acknowledged her with a nod which got the other people in the room nodding in agreement. Noah patted his daughter on the back with a proud smirk covering his face and Santana threw her hands up in the air, bewailing the fact that an eight year old was smarter than any of them, and then they all got to work.

Mercedes went to get a wagon hitched up to horses, while Noah and Quinn argued over which of them would be going since they had long ago agreed that neither of them would go on a mission together lest something happened that would leave Beth an orphan. Noah won though, since he was a guard and better prepared to fight. Quinn and Beth kissed him goodbye and left then as well, since it was long past Beth's bedtime anyhow.

Santana and Brittany also said farewell, even though Brittany was going to get some food stores for the wagon and would probably see Santana again before they left.

Kurt just stood there, quiet as he had been before. He supposed if he had someone left he cared about deeply, he would be kissing and hugging that person too, but instead he only had himself. There was nothing for him to do besides wait to go. He had been hunting with his bow when they called him regarding the broadcast, and there was nothing else he needed.

He ignored Mike as the doctor-in-training looked at him wordlessly before he went too in order to get the supplies he would need from the medical storage. Mike always looked like he had something to say to Kurt, some wisdom to give, but he never did say anything, just gave him those looks that make Kurt squirm inside. Kurt felt like he was being judged each and every time it was done.

When he was alone, Kurt realized that he was the one expected to pick up the walkie and let the man on the other end know help was coming. They had all left him there to take care of what they needed to get, or to say goodbye to those they loved. Even Noah and Santana had left to get a few more guards just in case it was a trap.

Leaving his bow balanced against the wall, Kurt walked to the received and looked at it for a moment, listening to the voice on the other end.

"_Is anyone there? *bzzzz* Please, someone… anyone…. *bzzzz* He's fallen asleep and I don't know if that's a good or bad thing…. *bzzz* Someone respond please! *bzzzzzzzz* My friend needs medical assistance…. *bzzzzz* His leg looks horrible…. *bzzzzz* Please, I don't want to lose him….*bzzzzz*"_

His heart felt like someone had grabbed it and squeezed it in their hands at that last bit. _I don't want to lose him._ Kurt remembered sitting by his dad, crying out to everyone circled around them when his dad had fallen from the heart attack. He had cried out that very same line and then whispered it over and over to himself as he looked at his dad on the ground. Even after the nurse, Carole, had done her best to try and revive him and Burt had gone cold and Carole had been pulled back by her son, Finn, Kurt still whispered it. After awhile he started to say that he couldn't lose his dad, and then, finally, he said, I can't believe I lost my dad.

He still couldn't believe it truth be told.

Burt's voice was still in his head all the time, reciting words of wisdom and directing Kurt daily. Kurt remembered when he was younger, that he would cry when he realized he couldn't remember his mother's voice, and he was worried that when Burt died, he would eventually forget his voice too. It hadn't happened though. Burt Hummel's voice was as clear in his mind as it was eight years ago - and thank goodness for it. In the morning his mind dragged up memories of his dad telling him to get up, so he did. His dad's voice would remind him to eat, so he did. His dad's voice told him to be good to others… so he tried to.

"_I'm scared… the rest of the group… *bzzzzz* they're divided on what to do…. *bzzzzz* We can't leave him…. *bzzzzz* It hurts him too much to move. *bzzzzz* Please…. someone answer me….. *bzzzzz*"_

Kurt took the walkie in his hand and brought it to his face. It took a second, and a moment of steadying his breath - he hasn't even realized he was nervous up until he felt his breath shudder - before he clicked the send button.

"Hi. I hear you."

The response was immediate.

"_Hello! Hello! *bzzzz* Oh my gosh! *bzzzz* HELLO! *bzzzzz*"_

Kurt rolled his eyes a little. He could practically hear the man on the other end jump up with excitement at getting a response finally.

"We have someone with medical training in our group. Can you tell me where you're located?"

"_Oh god! *bzzzzz* Yes of course! *bzzzz* Please hurry! *bzzzzz* He looks so bad… *bzzzzz*"_

Kurt wrote down the coordinates the man on the other end gave him on the notepad Mike had left behind. He tuned out the rapid succession of 'thank you's' he got and let the voice on the other end know that they were getting prepared to leave right away.

Even if they rode the whole way at a full gallop, it would still be almost a half a day before they reached them, and the horses wouldn't be able to maintain a full gallop the whole way there anyhow, especially since two of them would be pulling a wagon.

"Listen. We're going to go as fast as we can, but you need to know that we're far enough away that it could take almost a full day before we get there."

"_But…*bzzzz* he's so bad….. *bzzzz* What if he dies? *bzzz*"_

Death was inevitable he always told himself. Especially in this world where they were stripped of what had been normal access to water until ten years ago. They had adapted, made due with their new lives on this new Earth, but their lives weren't so much about living as they were about existing now.

But that's not what the man on the other end needed to be told.

Thankfully Mike came back at that point, his backpack looking like it had been overpacked with the zipper barely holding it together. In addition, he had another bag he carried at his side, much larger, and also looking completely full. Kurt held the radio out to Mike, pleading with his eyes to respond. "He's afraid his friend will die before we get there."

Mike took the radio in hand and spoke.

"Hi there. I'm Mike. I'm a medic. Can you describe what happened?"

"_He hit a bump. *bzzzzz* and fell from the quad *bzzzzzz* and it landed on him. *bzzzzzz* His leg looked flattened at first *bzzzzzz* but now it's all puffy and swollen *bzzzzzz* and he has a fever *bzzzzzzz* and he's in a lot of pain *bzzzzzz*."_

Kurt went back to the wall, taking his bow and slinging it over his arm and back. So it was the ATV group. Twenty people they could expect. The benefit was that Kurt had seen them before so he knew, if they were lying, how many people to be ready for. He double-checked the number of arrows he had in the pack on his back and smirked. Twenty one. Enough left over for a deer to feed them afterwards if they needed.

Mike talked to Blaine for a few minutes, letting him know what he could do to help his friend - apparently named Trent from what Kurt overheard. Using that overly calm and soft doctor tone Mike had, he managed to calm Blaine down and reassure him that they would be there as soon as possible.

The neighing of horses and their accompanying trots alerted Kurt to the wagon being pulled up in front of the building. Leaving Mike to finish the conversation with Blaine, Kurt left the room and nodded to Mercedes as she hopped down from the seat, handing the reins over to Kurt.

"I usually…. ride a horse." Kurt stammered as he looked at the reins in his hand to the the single rider horses tied up to the back of the wagon.

"And I usually get to bed at a decent hour sunshine." She huffed back, walking past Kurt and into the building.

Kurt looked at the reins once more and then back up to the seats. Mike would no doubt accompany one of the seats and Kurt assumed that one of the other guards would sit with him. Kurt didn't like having to force conversation, especially knowing that this wouldn't be a short trip and he just knew there was something Mike was itching to say to him. No. Kurt was not sharing a seat with anyone for this.

So as soon as Noah and Santana returned with two additional guards, Karofsky and Azimio, Kurt held the reins out the them. "One of you is riding with the medic."

They looked between one another and then Karofsky carefully took the reins from a much relieved Kurt, who walked to the back of the wagon and worked on untying the lead from one of the horses at the back. He had ridden this one before, a black filly that Mercedes had once warned him about. Apparently she had tantrums when she was tied up, but when Kurt had ridden her, he appreciated how sure-footed she had been and her willingness to gallop ahead with no fear. He didn't tie her up when he had taken her out, and she had stayed with him despite the freedom he granted her. This was exactly the kind of horse he needed if he was going into a trap. One that would rush into any battle they might find themselves in and trust him to take down any enemies from atop her.

However, Kurt didn't know the name of this filly - or any of the horses for that matter. He usually didn't get the same one too often, so he hadn't bothered to learn their names. When he had been fifteen, he had once told his dad the names he was considering for his future vehicle. He didn't need anyone to tell him how ironic it was that he was more inclined to name a car than to remember the name of a living, breathing, horse.

Mercedes came out of the building just as Kurt was pulling himself up on the mare and shot him a look that clearly showed her displeasure when she saw Karofsky up on the front seat of the wagon instead of Kurt. He pretended not to see it though and walked the filly up beside the wagon while Mercedes shook her head and tossed Mike's bags in the back of the wagon where Azimio had opted to sit.

Santana and Noah had both claimed single horses for themselves and were mounting them when Mike came out with a portable receiver and walkie talkie. That too was put into the wagon, though arranged close to the seats so Mike could respond to any calls if necessary.

"Alright. Brit packed the cooler full of water and rations for you…." Mercedes noted and Kurt looked over to note the cooler in the back of the wagon then. "... everyone has their weapons…." She scanned them over as they nodded, all except Mike who took his oath of 'Do no harm' quite seriously. "You have your medical equipment and walkie…." Taking a step back, she nodded at them. "Well then, go with God."

Karofsky tugged the lead to the two horses on the wagon and those on single horses did the same, walking them out of the town quietly. It was late and they didn't want to disrupt anyone more than they already had. In some windows, people waved, Beth and Quinn among them. Noah blew them a kiss and offered them a warm, reassuring smile. Santana was blowing kisses to Brittany who stood outside the dining hall, doing the same back to Santana until the air was so full of blown kisses Kurt was holding back a gag.

They passed by Azimio's pair who told him to take care of himself, and Kitty, who had bonded with Karofsky as a kind of sister. Kurt didn't get their relationship entirely - other than that they both had a history of being jerks, and now both seemed to regret that. Kitty had been one of the ones who had suggested that Kurt should cut his ears off nine years ago. She had also said that maybe if he tanned he might get into heaven when someone finally killed him.

Her teasing had stopped before Karofsky's did. In fact, she stopped being mean when his dad had died. She had never apologized though, not openly, but Kurt had the feeling she was behind Karofsky apologizing to him.

Kitty waved to Karofsky and told him she'd beat him at checkers as soon as he returned. He laughed in response and assured her that he would be the one winning. Kurt just rolled his eyes. They weren't even real brother and sister. They weren't paired or anything. He knew Karofsky didn't hang around her for sex, and he definitely wasn't sure what Kitty got out of hanging around with Karofsky. Really, Kurt didn't want to know what those two got out of one another's company.

When the community was just a dim light behind them, they brought their pace up to a canter and started off the real trip. Kurt rode out ahead of the group to scout for them. It also meant he was more alone, and by being alone, he felt safer. He would ride out ahead until Noah or Santana came to relieve him.

Since they were going without sleep tonight to get at their destination, they would each take turns sleeping in the back of the wagon. Kurt wasn't sure how he would sleep in that rickety old thing. It wasn't like a pioneer's wagon, in fact it had been a trailer back before it had been dismantled and repurposed as a wagon, but it still bounced and shook with every little bump on the ground.

So instead, Kurt chewed on coffee beans. They were bitter and pieces often got stuck between his teeth, but they helped keep him alert. He remembered how the smell of fresh brewed coffee was what he would wake up to growing up. It was a smell he associated with his parents. Now brewing coffee was considered a waste of water and generator energy, so people had to make do with chewing coffee beans or sucking on coffee grounds to get their caffeine fix. Most had just foregone coffee altogether rather than taking it in like he did. It definitely did not taste the same as a bean compared to when it was in a coffee mug.

A few hours, and a lot of coffee beans later, Kurt let Noah take the lead and dropped back alongside the wagon where Mike was on the walkie talkie.

"Okay Blaine, just keep it propped up then. That should help with the swelling."

Kurt listened in, though with Karofsky now snoring in the wagon since he and Azimio had swapped places, that was a little difficult. Christ, how did anyone who lived near Karofsky sleep at night if that's what he sounded like?

There was a lot less interference now on the frequency since they were moving closer to their destined location, and Blaine's voice was a lot more clear.

"_Okay. He's still sleeping. Is that alright Mike?"_

Now that Kurt could actually hear more voice than static, he noted how modulated Blaine's voice was, if not tight from the apparent stress he was under. Kurt's mind wandered and he tried to envision what Blaine would look like when they met up. Would his voice match his body? Blaine's voice suggested someone with gorgeous wavy hair, big beautiful eyes, and a tall, well built body. He tried to think if any of the small figures he had seen back in the town with the girls matched his mind's description, but he hadn't seen anyone too clearly, so there was no one to match any voice to.

"Sleeping is alright for now Blaine, but you do need to try and keep him hydrated so wake him up every now and then to drink."

Kurt could hear some other voices in the background when Blaine next responded, arguing over wasting their water on someone infirmed.

"_I ABSOLUTELY will keep him hydrated Mike."_ Blaine responded, clearly speaking over the naysayers who were with him. Kurt smiled to himself at that. He had to appreciate someone who didn't let jerks get their way.

If this was all a ruse and a trap, it was a very well orchestrated one. Kurt was beginning to believe, more and more, that this was a legitimate call for help given how desperate Blaine was over the walkie and how he was now talking again with Mike about his fallen comrade. As he caught himself with that thought though, he immediately tensed back up. If they, those ATV riders, wanted them off guard, calling in regularly for help and sounding desperate was exactly the kind of thing they might do. It could still be a trap and those riders could just be very adept with psychology and manipulation.

After a couple more hours, they stopped to stretch their legs, let the horses have a much needed break, and all take a half hour to nap. Kurt didn't nap around the fire they built, instead wandering off a little ways and sitting up against a broad tree. He did manage to find sleep, however light, with his hand tight around a dagger hilt.

Even after all these years, Karofsky and Azimio's presence made him extra edgy. He didn't want to be caught off guard by those two ever again. Never again would he suffer a hit from them. Karofsky might have apologized, but that didn't mean Kurt forgot what he had done and was capable of. He would never trust them.

Those two had been chief among his tormentors. They teased him for his voice, being gay, and of course, his damned skin tone and pokey ears. What had started as simple teasing though progressed. Out of sight of the adults in the community, they would trip him, shove him into walls, and threaten him.

When Karofsky had stolen a kiss from him after Kurt had tried to confront him though, it just got worse. It didn't matter that Kurt's dad had died, at least not to those two. Karofsky didn't want his parents, who he stilled lived with at that time in the community, to find out he was gay and they couldn't expect a grandchild out of him despite the mess the world was in, so Karofsky just got meaner. He also started drinking more. Alcoholic drinks they found were put away for celebrations only, but Karofsky had gotten into the storehouse and had steadily been drinking his evenings away. It wasn't until he had beaten Kurt on one particular drunken rampage that anyone had noticed how much alcohol had gone missing.

After that was when Kurt took it upon himself to toughen up. His physical injuries hadn't been too bad - mostly bruising and bumps, but the emotional fall out haunted him for months. He slept with a dagger in each hand when he did sleep. He had moved away from the community to his self constructed hut home. Even when Karofsky sobered up, came out to his parents, moved in with Kitty, and tearfully apologized to Kurt, Kurt's heart rate still stayed fixed at a faster than average pulse. When Karofsky had convinced the other jerks to stop picking on Kurt, Kurt couldn't forgive him. Karofsky didn't deserve his forgiveness.

Kurt didn't need anyone to come and wake him. Even though he managed to doze off, it was a light sleep and he woke himself when he felt he had been out of it for long enough. The taste of sleep made him hungry for more, but they needed to keep going. Using water from one of his water bottles, he washed his face to help him wake up and then went to rouse the others.

Santana, Noah, and Mike got gentle shoulder pats to wake them up, while Kurt just stood away from Azimio and Karofsky and snapped their names to wake them up. Everyone was groggy. Mike was the next to lay in the back of the wagon for a nap, seeing as how they needed him to be alert and on top of things when they got to their destination. Santana took the lead.

Every now and then, Noah would try and engage Kurt in conversation. Talking about Quinn, Beth, or what Kurt thought about the situation they were riding into. Between his bleariness and lack of desire to talk, Kurt's responses were one word until Noah finally got the message and rode up beside the wagon so he could converse with Karofsky and Azimio instead.

Noah was a nice enough guy, at least now, but he wasn't innocent of wrongdoing against Kurt either. He had shaped up well enough when he had knocked up Quinn, and Beth came along. In fact, he was a model father who clearly loved his daughter and would do anything for her. However, prior to Quinn and Beth, Noah had partaken in Karofsky and Azimio's rampage against Kurt. He was another one who hadn't apologized to Kurt, even though Noah had only verbally harassed Kurt and hadn't gone father, and despite all the progress he had made, Kurt wasn't totally comfortable around him either.

Quinn was another matter. He did trust Quinn, though he would never say so aloud. He also felt bad for her. She hadn't meant to get pregnant with Noah, having been dating someone else at the time it happened. It caused her to be rejected by her father and the birth was so hard on her system that, without modern medicine, she ended up infertile from the scarring. Beth would forever be an only child despite both Quinn and Noah wanting more. Quinn's dad still didn't speak to her, despite them all being in the community together. His rejection of his daughter and granddaughter had caused him to split with Quinn's mother and then take up residence with a much younger woman.

As the sun peered over the horizon, the walkie talkie started crackling again with Blaine on the other end, asking if Mike was there. Mike grumbled and rolled away from the noise, having somehow fallen asleep in the jostling trailer and it was clearly a deep sleep by the way he managed to sleep through the static buzzing beside him.

Karofsky and Azimio cast glances to one another and then over to Noah, silent asking him if they should answer, or wake Mike. In turn, Noah looked back to Kurt.

Kurt sighed and rode his filly up alongside the wagon, sliding his feet over to one side of the mare and then hopping into the wagon in the small amount of space left there. He tied the lead he still had in his hand up to the back corner of the wagon and then went over to the walkie talkie, picking it up and hitting send.

"Blaine. Mike is asleep. We're still on the way."

"_Oh…. you again. I don't know your name. Sorry."_

That's because I didn't tell you, Kurt thought to himself with a roll of his eyes.

"_It's just that, Trent is awake and in a lot of pain and we don't have anymore IB profen or anything to give him."_

Kurt looked over at Mike, sleeping so soundly. If Trent did need a lot of medical help, it was better to have Mike well rested for it. He sighed to himself and pressed the send button again.

"We're letting Mike sleep so he can be alert for your friend when we get there. Are you keeping your friend hydrated?"

"_Yes… I mean… I've had to give him my water stores and his own. A few of the others have given up some of theirs too, but others won't and we're running low on that too…."_

"So he's staying hydrated?"

"_Yes. Yes. I'm doing the best I can to get him to drink."_

"Good. If you're out of drugs, there are a few things you can look for that might help a bit with pain."

"_Okay, okay… I'm listening. I'll try anything to help him."_

"Alright… peppermint, stinging nettles, ginger… do you have any of those?"

"_Uh… I think I have some peppermint gum…. would that work?"_

Kurt refrained from groaning and smacking his hand to his face in annoyance. Was the person on the other end a man or a boy?

"No. It won't. That's just flavoured stuff. It's not the same. What kind of medical supplies are you carrying with you?"

"_Just like… bandages and hydrogen peroxide…. we don't carry that much."_

"And you've never thought you might have to deal with something worse than a papercut?" Kurt grumbled back, voice thickly laced with irritation at the thought of a group so ill prepared. How the hell had they survived the past ten years?

"_Well… we have places we visit that have all that stuff… uhm… I mean…."_

Kurt sighed, "Never mind. Look. He's just going to have to be in pain until Mike can look at him and that's that."

"_But…"_

"Just be happy he's still alive and Mike will get to help him." Kurt snapped.

"_Oh…. okay. Thanks… I'll let you go then."_

The static cleared and Kurt mumbled to himself in irritation at the apparent idiocy of the person on the other end of that line. You needed to be prepared in this world. There was no but's about it. And his friend would at least get medical help eventually. It wasn't like he was going to die while everyone around watched helplessly. Not like Burt had.

Kurt noticed, but ignored the looks he was getting from Noah as he untied the lead again for his mare and pulled her up alongside the wagon so he could climb back on her and get out of the damned trailer he was in. He was being harsh. He didn't need anyone to tell him that. Not with those less than subtle looks Noah was giving him or his dad's voice nagging him in the back of his mind, telling him that the man on the other end of the frequency was no different than Kurt was when he was pleading for someone to help Burt eight years ago.

Shit. He felt guilty.

He nudged the side of the filly with his ankles and got her into a full gallop, overtaking the wagon and riding up ahead until he met up with Santana, telling her sternly that he was taking the lead. It was earlier than necessary, but between his stoic, stone face and her own attempts to keep her eyes open, she acquised and fell back, leaving him alone.

Then he was able to breath a sigh of relief.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he caught the irony. He didn't want to be left alone with his thoughts when he was sick but he was more comfortable being alone with himself than with others.

Really, Kurt just knew he wasn't comfortable anywhere in this world. He might have a hard time accepting it, but he knew it was the truth about his situation.

The trek dragged on after that. He ignored Noah when Noah had ridden up declaring that it was his turn to take the lead and that Kurt needed his turn at napping and eventually Noah grumbled that Kurt was a "stubborn ass" and fell back to the wagon. Santana got the same treatment when she had ridden up not long afterwards, but she was far more vocal about his "inability to be reasonable" and the need for him to "get his head out of his ass" before falling back as well. The sun was hanging right above him when Kurt did drop back to the wagon, where Mike was on the walkie talkie telling Blaine they weren't far off and kindly suggesting that whomever was in the group with Blaine meet them without any weapons to avoid any misunderstandings.

Thank goodness for Mike. Kurt's own tactic would have been far less diplomatic - something to the effect of "if you greet us with weapons in your hands, we'll cut you from head to toe in a minute", which probably would have gotten them all into trouble regardless of their intent to bring a medic in to help someone out.

Everyone was doing their best to bring themselves to a state of alertness as they got nearer to the coordinates they had been given - chewing on coffee beans, or drinking their water. Noah even gave his face a few good smacks to snap him into full consciousness. Kurt was ready though. He had his bow in one hand, the reins in the other. His eyes were locked ahead, scanning for any signs of movement or threats. He would not be caught off guard.

In the back of the wagon, Mike was looking over a map and noting that if they took a different route on the way back, they could take old roads and reduce the bumpiness of the ride. It would take them longer to return, but would be better for the patient. Old roads were generally avoided by people in the community. Horses allowed them to get to and from their destinations without worrying about detouring on roads that might have biker gangs on them. Besides that, the roads had not aged well without maintenance - cracks and potholes more than regularly marring the smoothness, though they were still considerably less rough than going through the wilderness.

Of course, taking a different route back would only be relevant if they weren't walking into a trap.

Santana had rode up ahead as Kurt fell back and an hour after she had made her way up there, she whistled back to let them know she had spotted something ahead. Noah and Kurt brought their horses up to a gallop to meet her while Karofsky slowed the wagon's horses to a walk.

Kurt plucked an arrow from his pack, just in case, and readied it with his bow in one hand so he could quickly shoot something… or someone, if necessary.

When they reached Santana, they had already advanced quite a bit on what she had seen to alert them to. Two bodies were waving at them in the distance, one was jumping up and down just in case the waving wasn't already attracting enough attention. They didn't appear to have any weapons on them, at least not ones that were out in the open, and a glance around told Kurt they were the only ones there, probably sent out to meet them since they weren't quite at the destination coordinates yet.

Regardless, Kurt kept his bow in his hand as they rode up to the pair. Both were men, around Kurt's age. One had straight dark brown hair, pulled back into a ponytail, while the other had a shock of blonde hair that was obviously trimmed by someone who couldn't cut straight. The former was thick, not fat, but just broad, while the latter was thin and lanky. They were both beaming at the group coming towards them, and the blonde one even ran up and yelled towards them.

"You're here! You're really here! You've come to help Trent! He's going to be alright!"

Noah, Santana, and Kurt all shared a look which included arched eyebrows and a shared sense of disbelief. If this was a trap, they were clearly not worried about these two being hurt because they were making themselves easy targets.

Noah slid off his horse, letting Santana and Kurt remain on theirs just in case things went sour. He nodded to the blonde man-child and introduced himself, letting the pair know that the wagon with the medic would come up as soon as they had ensured this was not a trap.

"It's not! It's really not!" The blonde man-child stammered, silenced then by a hand on his shoulder from his companion who spoke.

"Jeff's right. This isn't a trap. Our friend really is hurt. We don't have any of our weapons on us like Blaine was told. Please help Trent. Please."

Noah gave him a short nod, "Fine. Take us there and if everything looks good, we'll signal for our medic to come."

The pair before them nodded rapidly and ran ahead of them. Noah led his horse by its lead while Santana and Kurt stayed atop theirs as they ventured forward. After fifteen minutes of being led by the pair, they found themselves in a shallow plain where ATV's circled around a group of young men. All at once, they were looked upon by these men with a blend of curiosity and wariness. Yet no one was visibly armed and when they saw, at the center of the circle, a makeshift bed with a whimpering man whose leg was elevated on a bundle of clothing, they knew this was not a trap.

Santana lifted her short range walkie talkie and sent a message to the wagon to advance while Kurt slid off his horse and walked with Noah to the felled man. The crowd of men parted as they walked through to assess the damage prior to Mike arriving. It was eerily silent except for their footfalls and the cries of the man ahead of them, and as they moved forward, another man, kneeling by the wounded one looked up at Kurt and Noah.

"Oh god. You're here. Thank goodness."

It was the same voice that had come through over the broadcast, and yet, this man in front of him couldn't have looked more different than Kurt had imagined him to be. Big doey hazel eyes, a mop of curly black hair that seemed to bounce on his head with every slight movement, and a small frame. Whiskers grew over his chin and cheeks, and he worried his bottom lip between his teeth in nervousness as they got closer.

"Our medic is behind us and will be here soon." Noah assured the man, Blaine, as he knelt down to look over Trent, who appeared to be completely unaware of their presence as he muttered incoherently.

"He's… he's… his fever is bad and he's talking about things that don't make any sense." Blaine uttered, looking back down to his friend and notably swallowing a lump in his throat.

"He's hallucinating." Kurt noted from where he stood. He had to wonder, in this group of twenty, was there really no one who had any medical knowledge whatsoever that they couldn't figure that one out on their own?

Blaine's ears seemed to perk a little when Kurt spoke and he looked up with tears wetting his obnoxiously long lashes. "You. You're the one who picked up. Thank you. God… thank you so much."


	4. Chapter 3: Choices

"_**Water if the driving force of all nature." -Leonardo da Vinci**_

The curly haired man looked up at Kurt, gratefulness in his tired eyes as he looked to Kurt as if Kurt were more than just a man.

Kurt shifted a little in place, not knowing what to say to the thank you given by the man crouched beside his babbling, feverish friend. The obvious thing to say would be 'You're welcome', but somehow that didn't seem to fit the situation. So he stayed quiet, and glanced around, taking in the scene. Most of the other men had backed off and were talking in small clusters near their quads, each of which had a different bird painted on it with a corresponding bird name - Canary, Cardinal, Weaver, Mockingbird…. the list went on. In addition, each had roman numerals following the bird name. For example, Weaver was followed by IV, meaning it was the 4th Weaver. These guys clearly liked their ATV's, and when one had died, they found another to replace it. How they were able to gas them up was a questionable, but Kurt could see the appeal. ATV's could get places motorcycles simply couldn't.

The contrast between Kurt, Noah, Santana and the others was notable too. Kurt and his company were dressed in leather and fur they had tanned and tailored themselves to survive with the harsh winter weather in this area, while the group they had walked into all wore leather jackets clearly taken from old stores - some still glossy with treatment. Good enough for spring or fall, but not good enough for a northern winter. Their whole outfits looked like a uniform too. Everyone was wearing T-shirts and jeans. The only deviation was in the colour of T-shirts they wore. They all wore boots too, mid-calf in length and black with buckles. It looked like they had all raided the same store for their clothing and while they might not be on bikes, they screamed of being a gang with their uniformity.

Trent, the wounded bird gang member, was whimpering and making nonsense words on the ground near Kurt's feet while Blaine tried to coax him into drinking some water from a small plastic cup. The damaged leg was propped up on top of a small stack of folded clothing, more T-shirts by the look of it, and the jeans had been torn off that leg so that Kurt could see for himself just how mutilated the leg was. It was definitely swollen, but not in a uniform way, peaks and lumps stretching and warping white skin all over. It was more bruised than not, and clotted gashes ran across what had been his calf. The other leg had the jeans torn open too, but didn't look nearly as bad, and it wasn't swollen, just cut up and bruised. Even without a thermometer, it was evident that Trent was feverish. Sweat rolled down his flushed face and his brown hair was matted in wet clumps. He looked so fragile, so weak, and Kurt felt pity rise within him.

He did look away after a moment. He couldn't keep looking at the broken man without being reminded of his own father laying on the ground, and he needed to keep his wits in this foreign group.

After a very awkward ten minutes of waiting, the wagon came around. Mike hopped off the side of it and rushed ahead to survey the man laying on the ground. Karofsky and Azimio grabbed his bags and brought them over to him where he muttered a quiet thanks as he began checking over his new patient.

"THIS is the doctor you offered? He's no older than any of us!" one of the men snapped, walking towards them. His pale face was rolled into a scowl and sharp green eyes glared down at Mike even though the question was directed at Noah and Kurt.

"Fine. We'll go if you don't like it." Kurt snarled back, knuckles white as he gripped his bow.

"Sebastian! Back off! He can't have any less training than any of us do!" The curly haired man interrupted. Kurt was torn between making an effort to think of him using his name, Blaine, or just not worrying about who was who in this group since the conformity they appeared to prize would make individual names irrelevant.

Mike looked back to Kurt, "Now that I'm here, you know I can't leave. I made an oath."

Kurt rolled his eyes at that. Mike and his stupid oath. He hadn't even attended a real medical school but he took the oath the nurse and midwife had given him and hung onto it for dear life. He had to admit though, he would trust Mike with his own life. Mike read any and all anatomy, biology, and other texts they could get for him like they were a bible. He had seen Mike take detailed notes from all of them, and Mike even asked Kurt to bring him live rabbits so he could practice his surgical skills on them.

However Mike was here because he was the lowest ranking member of the three person medical team in the community. No matter how much time and effort he had put into his craft, they weren't going to sacrifice the lives of the midwife or nurse who had both had more lifetime experience than he had. If this had been a trap, Mike was the most expendable of the three.

With Mike taking care of the man on the ground, and Noah and Santana there to watch him, Kurt walked back to the wagon. He needed some more coffee beans if he was going to suffer through waiting for the prognosis with the cluster of bird loving ATV riders around him. Karofsky and Azimio were tending to the horses, which a couple of the bird gang had come up to pet as if they hadn't seen them before, the blonde boy from before among them.

While some of the group was friendly, the ones that hung back with the man called Sebastian were leering suspiciously at Kurt and his people. Kurt kept an eye on those ones. Clearly they weren't too thrilled about the help they had been offered, regardless of the fact that Kurt and his people had travelled for the whole night and most of the day to get here, without sleep, and taking only a brief break. Ungrateful jerks.

Kurt also listened into the conversations Karofsky and Azimio were having with those who had approached them. They were casual enough, and both of the lugheads were ensuring that they didn't give too much away about the community. They didn't want anyone they couldn't trust finding out where they were located or what resources they had. Kurt had to give them credit for that at least. Most of the conversation was light and based around the usual talk about where they had originally come from before The Tides, if they knew anyone specifically (even ten years later, people still sought out missing relatives), and, in this case, questions about the horses.

In turn, Karofsky and Azimio asked about the quads. It turned out that the group was nomadic, and quads allowed them to carry more than bikes would. Beyond that though, they also didn't get much out of the group and the one called Jeff got a nudge in the side from one of his comrades when he was about to say more - a clear indication that he should shut up.

They didn't trust Kurt's people anymore than they trusted any of them.

"Can I get you anything?" Karofsky asked shortly thereafter, leaving the horses with Azimio, along with all the equine fans among the bird gang. He had come up near Kurt, but as always, left several feet of space between them.

"I'm right here." Kurt said, sweeping a hand back to indicate the wagon with all the supplies loaded onto it. He had been leaning up against the side of the wagon as he munched on beans. "I can get what I need myself."

"Right. Of course." Karofsky made a small shrug of his shoulders and lingered for a moment, as if he wanted to say something more, then thought better of it, grabbing himself a bottle of water and walking back to Azimio and the horses. Honestly, the guy was a moron, Kurt thought to himself. What could Karofsky possibly get for Kurt that Kurt couldn't get for himself?

Kurt was left alone for awhile after that, chewing on coffee beans like candy and surveying the group. Mike was thorough, and had Noah and Santana helping him to brace the leg. Blaine paced nearby, periodically asking if there was anything he could do to help until Kurt saw Mike say something to him and point back towards the wagon and Kurt.

A minute later, Kurt was face to face with the man, who Kurt realized stood a couple inches shorter than he was. Kurt could see the redness in and around his eyes, contrasted to the dark bags and circles under his eyes. He hadn't slept last night either.

"Mike said I needed to get away from him and let him do his work…" Blaine admitted, fingers digging into the pockets of his jeans as he looked down to the ground.

"And…. you're over here….. because…..?" Kurt said slowly, trying to coax up a response as to why Blaine would have been sent his way in particular.

"Because Mike said you'd find something for me to do to keep me occupied." Blaine stammered.

Kurt groaned and rolled his eyes for the upteenth time since they had arrived here. "Great. I get babysitting duty."

"I'm sorry!" Blaine started, the tone in his voice more shrill as he became defensive. "I just…." he sighed, and his voice softened along with it "... I just can't lose him."

"Fuck. Whatever." Kurt snorted, walking around to the back of the wagon from where he had been leaning against the side. He pulled the cooler towards him and opened the lid, pulling out the food rations they had been sent with. "Help me dish out supper for my people."

Blaine's eyes lit up as Kurt pulled out a loaf of bread, a bin of deer jerky, and another bin of blueberries. Like most nomads Kurt had encountered, Blaine had probably been living off canned goods for years and hadn't seen fresh food with any amount of regularity. For this reason, Kurt was eternally grateful the community had established a farm and harvested wild berries every year. He couldn't imagine only getting vegetables out of a can with too many preservatives.

Kurt also pulled out plates and directed Blaine to serve each of his people two strips of jerky, a palmful of blueberries, and a slice of bread. Along with the water bottles they all had, this was their supper. The blueberries were a personal favourite of Kurt's, and he always helped harvest them when they were in season so he could sneak the odd berry. During the winter he lived for the blueberry jam the cooks made, and spring meant that he had to go without blueberries for a few months again, but this time of year was the best, when they had so many blueberries that they were served at all three meals of the day.

Blaine brought food to each of Kurt's people one at a time, even Mike who just set his to the side while he continued to check over his patient. When they were all distributed, he came back to the wagon and looked at Kurt expectantly.

"What?"

"I finished the job you gave me…"

"Well I don't have anything else for you to do for me. I'm kind of out of my element here and don't have a chore list." Kurt huffed, popping the blueberries into his mouth one at a time to enjoy their sweet flavour for as long as he could and pointedly ignoring how Blaine was salivating before him.

"Not true!" Noah piped up as he walked over, having apparently heard Kurt. "Mike needs us to fashion a bed on the wagon to bring him back on. Something that won't cause his leg to move involuntarily."

Kurt's gaze rolled towards Noah, both brows arching, "We're actually taking him back?"

"Well… I thought that was the plan?" Noah asked back, his own eyebrows peaking.

"Wait… Why are you taking him away?" Blaine broke in, looking between them both and then over at Trent worriedly.

"Well he's alive isn't he? Surely Mike can just set his leg and we can get back without taking him." Kurt argued, ignoring Blaine as he looked at Noah.

"That guy's leg is crushed Kurt. Mike needs the x-ray to properly set the leg." Noah snapped back, also ignoring Blaine.

"So what? We're adopting more people? It's almost winter Noah. We can't prepare for more people." Kurt shot back, setting his plate down so he could go toe to toe with Noah if necessary.

"That was never the plan Kurt. You know that."

"So our plans are now officially made by eight year olds?!" Kurt snapped. He loved Beth, he truly did, but this was insanity. They couldn't run their community on the whim of a kid. Well meaning as she was, she didn't understand the risks and dangers of the world outside the community.

Noah pointed a finger at Kurt, "Don't be like that man. Don't."

"Like what?" Kurt took a step forward, Noah's finger now set squarely against his chest as Kurt looked up at the bigger man with eyes that screamed for a challenge, "Like I have some semblance of sanity?"

With Noah and Kurt speaking so loudly and angrily at one another, it was only a matter of time before Santana came up and got between them. She pushed her way in and shoved each of them back so she was between them as she snarled, "Get your panties out of whatever knots they're in boys."

Throughout it all, Blaine just watched, slack jawed and eyes wide as if he couldn't believe the drama unfolding before him. When Santana intervened though, his jaw managed to close back up and he made his way over to Mike and Trent. Kurt followed him, set on seeing if Mike was serious about this plan.

"Yes Kurt." Mike said, before Kurt even opened his mouth to ask. Kurt didn't realize he had been that loud when he had been going at it with Noah, but clearly Mike had heard them. "He has fractures in several places AT THE LEAST, torn ligaments, and ripped quadriceps. There is no way I can just set his leg and leave. It wouldn't do a damn thing and it would be morally reprehensible."

"And what about…." Kurt flipped one of his hands over and swung it to the side in an overly dramatic gesture, "... all of these other fine people here?"

"We were only ever going to take him back Kurt. They can continue on their merry way." Mike replied.

"Well THANK GOODNESS for that." Sebastian shouted out from where he had been listening in with his small clan of cronies. "Let's go boys."

"Wait just a second here! We can't abandon Trent to them! What if they're cannibals… or mad scientists or something!" Jeff shot back, looking worriedly at Trent.

That elicited a small chuckle from Kurt, and few things make him chuckle, so those that knew him looked at him in surprise when he did laugh. "Really? Cannibals?"

"Well we don't know you!" Jeff's brunette buddy said, standing up beside him.

"Who cares? We thought Trent was going to die. So what if he ends up eaten or experimented on instead?" Sebastian snapped back to the other half of his group.

"We just can't abandon him though… he's been with us since the beginning…." Another man, black haired who looked like he was of asian descent noted.

"We just can't leave him…" Blaine concurred, "He's one of our brothers… and what if he wakes up to find out we abandoned him… we can't…. that would be terrible."

"So what?" Sebastian walked up then, short brunette hair on a rectangular face that was all too smug for Kurt's liking. "We obviously can't take him with us and we can't stay here - so let them have him."

"We only planned on taking one along with us." Noah interjected towards all members of the bird gang.

"Well mighty fine of you for telling US that since he's one of our people. Who the hell are you to make plans for us?!" A dark-skinned man shot out, pointing an angry finger at Noah.

"Even if I can bring down the swelling and set the leg…" Mike spoke up, and everyone listened when he spoke, "... he will need months of healing time and therapy to walk properly again. He's better off staying with us for the winter and then we can meet up in the spring and you can have him again."

"Months…." Blaine mouthed and shook his head, looking at his sweat glazed friend on the ground.

"Right. Months. Months of us caring and feeding him when he won't be able to contribute anything back just out of the kindness of our hearts." Kurt grumbled. He wanted to fold his arms over his chest, his go-to position for being irritated, but he needed to keep his bow out just in case this got even more out of hand.

"What if…." Blaine snapped his head up from looking down "... what if I go with him and I'll take care of food and stuff for myself and Trent? That way you aren't all being put out and he won't be alone?"

"That is ridiculous Blaine!" Sebastian snapped then, stalking up towards the curly haired man, "There's no need for you to leave us!"

Noah glanced at Mike, who glanced at Kurt, who glanced at Santana, who completed the circle by looking back to Noah. On one hand, the idea had a lot of potential to save them the effort of taking care of another person who couldn't give anything back to the community. On the other hand, it was a risk - not only if Blaine couldn't manage to feed himself and Trent, but because it meant they would be bringing back someone who could turn on them.

"Don't be an ass Sebastian!" Blaine snapped right back, perching himself up on his toes to gain some height as he went face to face with Sebastian. "You were ready to leave Trent to die here after we've all been together for years - just like that."

Sebastian's voice dropped as he took a glance around and then looked back to Blaine, "Look.. you know I wouldn't do the same if it were you…."

"I really don't care Seb!" Blaine yelled back and turned away from the other man. Kurt's mouth turned up at one corner. He had to appreciate the fire in Blaine and his unwillingness to bow to the other man. It would have been easier for him, certainly, to just go off with his gang and leave Trent behind. He wouldn't have to face anything unknown, or be with strangers when it was evident these men had been together for some time and some of them had forged brotherly bonds - Sebastian's words notwithstanding.

"Come on Blaine!" Sebastian called after him, but it appeared to be of no use as Blaine looked straight at Mike.

"I'll do what I said I would. Can I come?"

Mike blinked a few times, surprised apparently that Blaine would think that kind of decision would be left to him. The lanky asian medic looked over at the group of guards that Kurt was standing by and his eyes pleaded with them to take over.

Blaine's eyes followed Mike's, and the error in his calculation was revealed. Mike wasn't in charge of this group. Turning then to Kurt, Noah, and Santana, he asked again.

"Well?"

"No."

"Yes."

"We need to -"

All three of them had responded at once, and definitely not with any uniformity. They all both snapped their mouths shut and looked to one another with irritation. None of them were on the same page here.

Mike gave Blaine an apologetic look and excused himself, walking over to the threesome. "Let's talk this over."

They walked together back to the wagon and Kurt immediately dropped his voice to a whisper.

"We can not entertain the idea of bringing back someone who has the clarity to pay attention right now and could lead them all back to the community."

"But you heard him!" Noah hissed quietly, "He would save us the trouble of providing for that kid on the ground!"

"Assuming of course he knows how to get his own food." Kurt snapped back.

"What if he's only ever been with this group and doesn't know how to take care of himself?" Santana queried thoughtfully.

"Exactly." Kurt noted with a nod. "He could be more trouble than help."

"Guys, as far as the guy on the ground is concerned, it would be better for his recovery and mental health if he thought he wasn't abandoned when he comes out of it…." Mike interjected.

"Who the hell cares about some stranger's mental health if we end up paying the price for it?" Kurt grunted, earning him a nod of agreement from Santana.

"I do damnit Kurt." Mike shot back at him. "That's my priority. My oath -"

"Your oath. Your damn oath. Always with the oath." Santana groaned. "What about the safety of everyone else in the community?"

"What if we bind his eyes for the way back?" Noah suggested, fingers rubbing over his chin as he considered it.

"And what if he's really good at blind tracking? It wouldn't matter anyhow." Kurt retorted, looking between Noah and Santana at the curly haired man who was presently engaged in his own verbal spat with Sebastian across the plain they were in.

"I'd suggest a vote, but clearly we're two for two." Mike sighed and looked over at Karofsky and Azimio who were dutifully standing to the side and just watching everything quietly. They were good for fighting, but not good for intellectual matters. "Even if we got those two in on this, luck would have us going three for three instead."

"So how do we resolve this?" Noah mused, his fingers now moving to the back of his head to scratch a spot there.

They all mutually exhaled sighs. They needed to make a decision and it was clear they wouldn't be able to do it without some kind of divine intervention right now.

Which is what they got.

"_Dad? *bzzzz* Dad are you there? *bzzzzzz*"_ The radio crackled from within the wagon beside them. Noah hastily reached inside and grabbed the receiver.

"Hey Bethie boo. It's dad."

"_Did you save *bzzz* the guys yet? *bzzzz*"_

"Yah honey. Mike's doing a real good job here. We just have to figure out what to do about his friend so dad's going to let you go while we figure it out."

"_Wait dad! *bzzzz* What friend? *bzzzz*"_

Noah kept the receiver in hand instead of docking it back on the radio. "He has a friend that wants to come with him to our home, but we don't know if it's a good idea."

"_Well his friend should come. *bzzzzzz* Everyone needs family and friends to love them. *bzzzz*"_

Kurt wished it were possible to roll his eyes right to the back of his head because the amount his ocular muscles limited to right now seemed inadequate for the ridiculousness of the sentiment of the eight year old girl.

"Well fuck." Santana said with a tossing up of her hands, "Fine. Let's take the friend. Screw it."

Kurt's eyes stopped their rolling and fixed on Santana with incredulous disbelief, "Are you joking me?" The eight year old couldn't have worked her magic just like that, not this far away, not over something so potentially threatening.

_*Ms. Lopez *bzzz* You shouldn't use curse words. *bzzzz* Mr. Hummel *bzzzz* Please be nice. *bzzzz* You told me your dad was nice. *bzzzz* So you should be too."_

What Beth couldn't see when she said that was the knowing smirks of everyone around Kurt in that moment. Knowing in the sense that bringing Kurt's father into the argument was the penultimate argument, and Beth had done so unwittingly. With his jaw dropped in disbelief, everyone held in their chuckles, but Kurt did see their smirks. He was beat.

"Fine!" Kurt said, tossing his hands up into the air as he accepted his defeat in the matter. "But don't come crying to me to save you when he kills you all in your sleep!"

"You hear that Bethie boo? We're bringing the hurt man and his friend back. We should be there…." Noah began. Kurt didn't hear the rest because he had stormed off with an axe from the wagon to go find a tree to cut up to help brace Trent inside of the trailer. He made a point of walking as far off as he could without going so far that he'd regret having to carry the wood back on his own.

It didn't take long to find a tree that would do, and as soon as Kurt shed his coat on the ground, he angrily began swinging away at the tree trunk. Each hit was aimed at someone.

The Others… for everything.  
His mom… for leaving him too early.  
His dad… for the same.  
Karofsky… for the beating.  
Azimio, Kitty, and Noah… for the verbal abuse.  
Santana, Brittany, Quinn, Rachel, Finn… for finding contentment in this hell.  
Himself… also… for everything.

The tree fell and Kurt worked then on chopping it into long, thin, pieces he could drag back to the wagon. By the time he was ready to do that, it didn't matter how cool it had gotten as the evening settled upon the land - he was covered in his own sweat. His coat was draped over one of the planks he had cut and he dragged it back then, ignoring when everyone looked at him with curious eyes as he returned sweat soaked in what was otherwise a chilly evening. Some people in the community would say that he had wasted water by sweating so much. He would say that nothing else was as therapeutic.

He dropped the planks off with Karofsky and Azimio, handing the latter the axe as well and directing them to cut the planks to fit the width and length of the wagon so however Trent was packed in, he wouldn't be able to roll around. Then Kurt went to quench his thirst with a bottle of water.

Noah and Santana were busy now following Mike's instructions on how to lift Trent and get him settled in the wagon with the least amount of damage. Now that Mike had tended to him, and no doubt given him some kind of strong anti inflammatory, Trent's leg looked a little more deflated, though no less worse for wear. Several members of the bird gang were covering up two of the ATV's with tarps that were being nailed into the ground. One of the ATV's was banged up on the side. Kurt noted to himself that was probably the one that fell on top of Trent and made a mental note of the name on it - Chickadee.

The other ATV being covered up had the name Canary, and must have been Blaine's. Both ATV's had their cargo bins pulled off of them and as Kurt looked back into the wagon, he noticed the bins sitting in it, along with two backpacks that they hadn't brought out here so must also have belonged to the pair they were adopting.

"Noah said that he could come… but had to leave the quad behind because of the noise." Karofsky said as the bigger man came up by Kurt and handed him the reins of the black mare.

Kurt took the offering and nodded to Karofsky. "Makes sense… would scare off the wildlife with all that noise it makes."

Kurt shouldn't have responded to Karofsky, because he then had Karofsky hanging beside him after that, apparently thinking that because Kurt responded to him, it must be alright to be near him. Kurt quickly put an end to that line of thinking by glaring sidelong at Karofsky until he noticed, got the hint, and backed off to help Azimio once again. Karofsky could apologize to Kurt until he was blue in the face, it didn't make Kurt feel any more comfortable with him around.

Blaine was talking to a group of his bird gang members, giving them hugs each in turn as he said his goodbyes. Off to the side was a very grouchy looking Sebastian, arms folded over and just glaring at the ground like he was trying to bore a hole into it with his eyes. Blaine didn't stop to say goodbye to Sebastian, and Sebastian didn't try to stop him this time when he walked to the wagon where Trent was being carefully loaded into. Either Blaine had said his goodbyes to Sebastian while Kurt was gone, or things were just as frosty as they looked between them.

Kurt climbed up on the black mare then, just as the bird gang was climbing onto each of their respective ATV's and calling back to Blaine one last time to wish him well and tell him they'd miss him and see him in the spring. Then, in what had to be one of the noisiest departures Kurt had ever experienced, they left going south, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake which Kurt and his people coughed on until it dispersed.

Definitely a good idea to leave the ATV's behind.

"Taking lead." Kurt said then and cantered his mare ahead of the wagon which was still being prepared to leave. No one responded to him and the most reply he got was a nod from Blaine, sitting beside Trent in the wagon - as if it mattered to Kurt if it was alright with him that he take the lead.

They travelled for a few hours, until Santana rode up to Kurt and told him they'd decided to sleep for the night before continuing since none of them had had more than a couple hours sleep in over a day now. Kurt nodded to her and rode alongside her back to where the wagon was stopped in a small clearing a few meters away from some old highway. A fire was already started and Noah was already sawing logs beside it, curled up in a sleeping bag.

"I can take watch…" Kurt murmured as he climbed down off his horse and let Azimio take the reins so he could get the mare fed and watered before went to nap too.

"Fuck Hummel. Like you'd let any of us do it." Santana grunted as she pulled another sleeping bag out of the wagon and went to go join Noah by the fire.

Mike was inspecting his patient and Blaine was on the other side of Trent, across from Mike. They were talking quietly and once Mike crawled out of the wagon, Blaine laid himself down by his friend and was quickly lost to sleep as well.

In fact, within minutes of coming back, everyone was sleeping except for Kurt. Even the horses were out - overworked and exhausted from the day. Kurt's head kept bobbing as he fought off his own sleep and he cursed himself for chewing up all the coffee beans they brought. He really could have used the boost right now.

Instead, he thought about all the mean names and insults he had endured in his lifetime and soon his heart rate was up and he was too angry to fall asleep. In his mind he came up with great comebacks and retorts - ones that he'd wished he had the wit to come up with back when he was being bullied and picked on.

His accelerated heart rate came at a price though. Every snore, every incoherent murmuring, every turn of a body made Kurt jump in place. He was so overtired and his mind was so overactive that he couldn't help but startle at the slightest sound.

He was grateful when Noah woke up at the peaking of the moon and took over for him. It wasn't often that Kurt took someone else up on the offer to watch over him as he slept, but he also usually didn't go without sleep for so long.

And he only needed a couple hours before he was awake again and feeling refreshed enough to take over for Noah once more. This time though, he felt refreshed and his brain didn't feel like it was swelling up inside of his head.

At dawn they had a small breakfast, made smaller still by the fact they had picked up not one, but two additional people, and rode off again. The trip was quiet, save for Blaine asking Mike about how Trent was doing every single hour and Mike, very patiently, telling Blaine that Trent was stable and he'd be able to say more when they got back to the community.

"How do you have all this medical stuff? Whenever we dig through a pharmacy all the good stuff is long gone…" Blaine asked of Mike at one point while they had stopped to take a bathroom break and were waiting for Karofsky to returned from the bushes.

"Few years back the scavengers in our group found a hospital that had all the supplies locked up still. We all went back there with wagons, broke the locks, and took everything we could." Mike explained as he stretched his legs out now that he had a chance to.

"But doesn't a lot of the drugs go bad or expire after so long…?" Blaine said after taking in the information.

Mike smirked a little, "The expiry date on medicine just tells you when the drug is most potent for and after that it begins to lose it's potency… so the drugs that were made before The Tides are still effective, at least most of them are, but you just need more to get the same effect you would have before they expired."

Blaine nodded slowly as he took it all in, and then MIke added something more that made them all grin a little.

"And for those drugs that have lost their effectiveness, well let's just say I've now seen firsthand the placebo effect at work."

Taking the old roads did mean the ride was smoother, but it also meant they didn't return to the community until well after dusk that night. Regardless of that, loved ones were waiting for them after Noah had called in an hour before their arrival to let them know their return time. Blaine's jaw dropped a little as he saw just what he was entering into - a full town, with more humans in one place than he'd probably ever seen together before.

Kurt watched his reaction with curiosity.

First Blaine just scanned everything, just trying to take it all in and then looked to Mike, asking if this place was real, affording him a chuckle and a nod in return. Then Blaine became quiet and watched Noah as he was reunited with Quinn and Beth, giving both big hugs and kisses. Azimio and Santana also both went to great their girlfriends before coming back to the wagon to help unload the supplies, even though Mercedes had her people on it. Everyone helped unload Trent from the wagon and carry him into the makeshift doctor's office where Carole, the nurse, had set up a bed for him.

Blaine tried to follow Trent in, but Mike held a hand up to him at the entrance.

"Myself and the two other medics need to do our work now to help him out, and I know you mean well, but you have to stay out of our way."

Blaine took in a sharp breath, looked to the side of Mike at Trent, and then nodded back up to Mike. He turned in place and looked around, now seeing for the first time the curious looks being directed at him from the people of the community.

"Who's the cute little elf boy?" Brittany asked, cutting the silence and asking the question on everyone's minds.

"This is Blaine. He's a friend of the guy in the clinic, Trent. We're taking them in for the winter while Trent heals." Noah explained to everyone gathered. There were some immediate grumblings from the group about how a vote should have been conducted prior to accepting someone new, but those were quashed by arguments about how this was not a typical situation with the damaged boy who had been brought back as well.

Blaine made a little wave and gave a nervous smile to everyone as he looked around. His hand dropped back to his side quickly when no one immediately responded to his attempt at being friendly, but a certain eight year old girl did step away from her parents and walk towards Blaine, offering him a hand as she looked up at him. He glanced side to side, seeing if this was some kind of test or joke before accepting the offered hand and shaking it.

"I'm Beth."

"Nice to meet you Beth. I'm Blaine."

She grinned at him and then turned to skip happily back to her parents, leaving him alone again.

"We'll put him in one of the apartments by the stables." Mercedes said simply and wagged a finger at Tina, telling her to go ready the room. Blaine gave both women a thankful nod and then went to the wagon, seemingly trying his best to cope with all the eyes on him, and collect the cargo bins that had been strapped onto his and Trent's ATV's along with their backpacks.

"What's all that?" One of the other kids from the community asked, peeking out from behind his parent's legs.

"Oh… this is my stuff and my friend Trent's stuff." Blaine explained as he looked at the child curiously and then offered the small human a weak smile.

"Did anyone check his stuff?" A voice in the crowd asked of them.

Santana and Kurt exchanged looks, and simultaneously turned to look at Noah. Between their sleepiness and rushing, they hadn't thought to check his gear. For all they knew, there could be something that could have tracked them back here or some kind of poison, or even a cache of weapons.

"Hey… wait…." Blaine stammered as both Kurt and Noah came up beside him and started unlatching and unzipping his things to look inside.

But Blaine didn't argue after that, and Kurt saw from the corner of his eyes that the man's hands dropped to his sides as he sighed in frustration, standing back and just watching them root through his things.

Clothing, none of which was really good for the weather he'd be enduring here, cans of food like Kurt had expected, bandaids, books, bullets without a gun, a bag of what looked like old phones (a waste of space in Kurt's mind), journals, maps, a few old pictures that were weathered beyond being able to see the features of the subjects clearly, and then…

"What the fuck!" Noah yelled and jumped back from where he had been digging through one of the bins.

Kurt scooted over and peered inside the bin as Noah knelt back down and pointed at the thing in question.

It took a second for Kurt to figure out exactly what he was looking at, but when he did, his stomach turned and he cupped a hand to his mouth in disgust. There, threaded on a string, was a series of ears that were obviously cut off from Others - a rainbow of different skin tones, all thin and formed into points about two inches higher than where a human ear would stop and curve.

Blaine had a necklace of dismembered ears from the worst enemies humanity had ever faced.


	5. Chapter 4: Peaches

"_**You don't extinguish fire by adding more fire, you need water." - Pope Shenoud**__**a III**_

Kurt counted in his mind as he looked over the discovery in the cargo bin. Fourteen. There were fourteen ears of different colours and sizes that had been sewn together on a chain. All fourteen from The Others with their outrageously pointed tips, which meant that the small man who up until this point had looked as threatening as a puppy had potentially killed fourteen of The Others.

Pulling an arrow from the pack on his bag, Kurt gingerly hooked the chain on the tip of the arrow and lifted it out of the cargo box for everyone to see - not wanting to actually touch the thing with his bare hands. A hush fell over the crowd gathered, and then responses varied from gagging to hushed 'Ohmygods' and a lot of looking between Blaine and the ear necklace.

"It's not… unheard of." One voiced piped up among the others, and Kurt looked up, seeing it came from a middle aged woman who had joined the community a couple years ago with her family after being on the road since The Tides.

Blaine nodded in agreement and knelt down to pop the lid of the second cargo box, immediately digging into the back left of the box and pulling out another chain of ears and holding it up without any noticeable concern about how gross the thing was. "It's how you can trade with certain groups."

More quiet and then Kurt dropped the ears back into the cargo bin and put the arrow back into his pack as he stood back up. "Uck… fine…"

"Fine?" an incredulous voice asked of him and Kurt saw it came from the same man who had asked about searching Blaine's things earlier. "He has dismembered body parts and it's fine?"

"They can't hurt us, and they're not human. I didn't see any bombs or weapons or anything else concerning aside from the fact that he needs better clothing to survive the winter here." Kurt stated simply, eying the man up and down.

Blaine seemed less concerned with the fact that people were watching him warily with the discovery of the ears, and more concerned with Kurt's last point. "What's wrong with my clothing?"

Kurt didn't get a chance to respond to that question because Beth spoke up again from where she stood between her parents. "Why do you have a necklace made of ears?" she asked of Blaine.

Blaine sighed and tossed the ear chain he was holding back into the cargo bin before looking first at Beth and then at the group awaiting a response before him. Kurt could see it in his eyes - Blaine was uncomfortable, and worried for himself.

"It's… we need them to trade for resources with certain groups." He offered, hands spread to either side with his palms up as he responded to everyone even though it had been Beth asking the question.

"It's true." The woman from earlier spoke up, eyes turning onto her. "I never had them but we were told by a few groups we couldn't trade with them unless we proved our humanity with one of those things."

"Prove your humanity?" Quinn queried then, looking between Blaine and the woman.

Blaine just shrugged but the woman seemed to have an answer and spoke, "Renegades will only trade with you if you've killed Others."

More silence, and then slowly eyes went back onto Blaine, Kurt's included. Had this small man actually managed to kill Others? With what would he have even done that? The contents of his baggage would suggest the only way he could have killed them would be throwing old cell phones at them or reading them to boredom. How was it even possible? Everyone here knew that if The Others came, you ran, you didn't fight. You wouldn't stand a chance if you fought.

At least, that's what Kurt had been led to believe. They'd never met anyone who'd survived an encounter with a close encounter with an Other. The closest they had was a senile old man who swore he looked one in the eye. That was the same man who Mike had to heavily sedate several times a week because he had freak outs, or as Mike called them 'Anxiety Episodes'. Mike did have the tendency to make everything sound clinical.

No one asked Blaine if he had actually killed Others though, so after a moment Tina spoke up and told Blaine that she could show him the apartment Mercedes had delegated her to ready for him. He looked grateful for the exit excuse, and grabbed one of the cargo bins as he followed her.

That's when people started talking.

"How many were on there?"  
"Do you think he actually killed them?"  
"I'll bet they're faked."  
"How do you even kill one of them?"  
"Someone should ask him."  
"What if he's dangerous?"  
"Maybe he'd make a good guard."  
"Why do you need ears to prove you're human?"  
"Do you think he'd trade them for stuff?"  
"I really don't want him sleeping that close to us."

Kurt started tuning out the voices around him as they all gossiped freely. A lot of questions were directed to the one woman who had vouched for Blaine by admitting ear necklaces were a legitimate thing, and she became increasingly agitated as it became clear that her knowledge about the object in question was limited to the fact that she hadn't been able to trade with some groups because she didn't have one of those things.

The voices all stopped though when Blaine returned to get more of his gear, glancing around nervously as everyone watched him and were clearly holding off on talking again until he was out of earshot.

By that point the family groups had left and it was only childless individuals around. Bit by bit though, that group dispersed too as the need for sleep overcame the need to gossip about the community's latest additions, leaving Kurt alone outside of the clinic where Mike, Carole, and the midwife were still working on Trent.

Kurt was leaning against the building, when Blaine returned, and since all his gear was gone, Kurt assumed it was to check up on Trent.

"No word yet." He said towards Blaine on his approach.

Blaine nodded and looked to the door of the clinic, moving a hand up to the back of his neck and rubbing it there as he waited for a moment as if someone would come out of the door in that instant and tell him how Trent was doing.

Instead Blaine ended up leaning against the wall too, a good meter away from Kurt, and making eye contact with the ground. He had to be tired, Kurt thought as he looked over at the man whose dark circled eyes and slumped demeanor suggested little else. And while Blaine stared at the ground, Kurt couldn't help but keep his eyes on him. He had been so eager, so happy, when Kurt and his people had arrived to help Trent, and had almost seemed boyish. Now he looked more akin to Kurt's age, if not older, worn by the trip and the inquisition he had just experienced at the hands of the community, and worried about his friend in the building behind them.

He was smaller than Kurt, but broader too, and did not seem to lack for muscle tone if the outlines under his T-shirt suggested anything. His curls were haphazard and there was a faint echo of Kurt's younger self that demanded that those curls be trimmed down from where they hung around his chin where he had about a week's worth of facial scruff poking through his face. Beards were commonplace these days in men, and Kurt was one of the few men who kept himself shaved down since he couldn't seem to ever grow a proper beard anyhow.

Maybe, in another time and place, Kurt would have found him beautiful, but too many crushes on straight men over the years and his need to remain aloof meant that now Kurt was largely disinterested in such things. Blaine was likely just as straight as everyone else was around here, and Kurt wasn't a teenager with time for silly little crushes anymore.

Still, Blaine was reminiscent of Kurt's fantasy men and with that in his mind, Kurt zoned out a bit until the sound of a throat clearing brought him back to the present and he saw that Blaine was now looking at him instead of the ground.

"Trying to figure out if I'm dangerous?"

Kurt let the corner of his mouth twitch up into a smirk as he heard the question. Really, it should have been exactly what he had been looking over Blaine for given what had just occurred. He should have been sizing him up and trying to figure out how someone so small could have killed one of those tall, pointy-eared demons. But instead, Kurt had been recalling a fantasy image he had once had of having coffee in a little coffee shop with a fantasy boyfriend who looked a lot like Blaine.

"Are you?"

Blaine sighed and looked away from Kurt, his eyes falling back onto the ground. He was quiet and Kurt presumed he didn't want to talk about it until a moment later Blaine spoke up while looking away still.

"I'm not."

"Good." was Kurt's simple response and they went back to coexisting in silence. Kurt didn't know how he had gotten stuck with babysitting this new guy. Everyone had left and seemed to have forgotten that Blaine was there even though they had just all been talking feverishly about him. Kurt couldn't just leave Blaine alone, especially in the night, and especially when they still didn't know much about him.

Night patrol guards strolled past every so often and nodded to Kurt, who nodded in return out of politeness. Kurt could have just left Blaine under their watch he supposed, but the worst case scenario was that if Blaine could kill an Other, than he could easily take care of a patrolling guard if he so desired. Better to have numbers on their side just in case.

For another hour, they lived in their silence. Periodically Kurt would fall back into his daydreams and had to give himself a mental slap and remind himself he needed to be on his game if curly over there tried anything. But Blaine was nothing if not well behaved, and when Mike came out of the front doors of the clinic, Blaine immediately perked up and looked at Mike with an intensity that told Kurt that even if Blaine was dangerous, he was clearly here for his friend first.

"So we opened up the leg, followed the textbooks, and pinned it up, cleaned out the infection, set the leg, stitched him up, and put on a leg brace until it looks good enough to put a cast on." Mike immediately said as he saw the look in Blaine's eyes.

Of course though, Blaine had to stick onto one part of that whole play-by-play.

"Followed… the textbooks? You haven't done this before?"

Mike looked past Blaine for a moment towards Kurt, who gave him a shrug, before looking back to Blaine and nodding. "We don't have vehicles here anymore that could crush our legs. We're trying to help the best we can."

Blaine ran his fingers up through the hair on both sides of his head, curls stretching out and then bouncing back in place as he made a low whine. "Oh my god… we're trusting in a textbook…."

"Our nurse, Carole, has seen it done before, and she felt confident we did everything as perfectly as it could be done." Mike offered.

Kurt could have let Mike try and calm down Blaine, who seemed to be rapidly unwinding before their eyes, but it was clear if there was one thing Mike needed to improve on, it was bedside manner. Kurt stepped up and set a hand tentatively on Blaine's shoulder.

"I would rather have Mike work on me than any old world doctor. He knows his stuff."

Between the hand on his shoulder, which Blaine looked at curiously for a moment before looking up at Kurt, and Kurt's words, Blaine seemed to relax a little. He certainly stopped fidgeting with his hair, which relieved Kurt's inner fourteen year old to no end who definitely wanted to style that hair.

"Thank you Kurt…." Mike said slowly, as if he couldn't believe Kurt had said it. Had it been so long since Kurt had paid anyone around here a sincere compliment?

Blaine had honey eyes then, Kurt realized as if it were an epiphany. They were looking at him and somehow Kurt had managed to miss them up until now. It wasn't just that they were brown, or hazel, or somewhere inbetween. No, they looked like honey complete with the glossiness.

And then those eyes were off of Kurt and looking towards Mike. "Can I see him?"

Mike nodded once and called for Carole, who came out wiping off her hands with a rag. He introduced Blaine and Carole and then asked Carole to take Blaine to Trent, explaining to Blaine that Trent was still sedated and probably wouldn't be awake for awhile yet.

That left Mike and Kurt alone outside.

"So his real prognosis?" Kurt asked once Blaine and Carole had left.

Mike sighed and glanced over at Kurt with his more mundane brown eyes. "We don't know. We did everything right as far as the books and Carole are concerned, but each injury is unique and no textbook can cover all the possibilities. He seems to be stable though… but… I really don't know if he'll be able to walk properly ever again."

Kurt snorted derisively, "Well his leg got crushed. We both saw it. He's lucky to be alive."

"We might need to take him in though longer than just the winter Kurt…"

"Oh."

So Mike had considered how his bird gang might not be able to take care of someone with a gimped up leg, or that Trent may not even be able to use a quad again - not that Kurt would blame him if he never wanted to get on one again after that. In addition, physical rehabilitation would probably take longer than just the winter months.

Without realizing it, they had just decided for the community to take on a new member, and a high needs one at that.

"Anyhow… you should probably get to bed. We've both been up far too long." Mike said.

Kurt shook his head, needing to ensure Mike knew before he left. "Mike…. You all were inside working on that kid, but when we went through their stuff -"

"- You searched their things?"

Kurt nodded to Mike, who looked largely unimpressed by what he must have thought was some kind of invasion of privacy. Regardless of Mike's ethical issues on the matter, Kurt continued.

"Anyhow, they have these… chains… strung with ears… from Others…."

Kurt watched as Mike's face went pale and he saw him processing that information through his eyes and what it meant, or at least implied, about their guests.

"So you can imagine I'm not really alright with leaving you guys alone with him if he has the potential ability to harm you in some way." Kurt added after a moment.

"Holy hell…." Mike said with a shake of his head in disbelief. "I mean, there's one side of me that's immediately curious about the ears and potentially dissecting them and gaining some insight about The Others…."

Kurt couldn't help but smirk at that admission. Mike was nothing if not predictable.

"... but neither of them really strike me as the type who could go and kill Others… I mean… Trent. Trent is not at a healthy weight or build and he's lucky he's young because otherwise he'd have nothing going for him in the healing process. I really have a hard time seeing him as a killer… and Blaine just seems far too nice…"

Kurt snickered, "Well maybe being a soft sweetie pie is how one kills an Other."

"Doubtful."

They chuckled briefly and then stood outside for awhile, Kurt just waiting. He expected Mike to say something to him, given how Mike always shot him those looks like he wanted to say something to Kurt, but nothing was said, instead, Blaine was led out by Carole after a few minutes suggesting that he get his rest and come back in the morning to visit Trent again.

Blaine seemed much more at ease now that he had seen his friend, and nodded obediently to Carole. "Yes. Absolutely."

"Mike, you too. I can stay up with him tonight. You look like you'll pass out at any moment." Carole ordered, shooing them off with a wave of her hands before returning to the inside of the makeshift clinic.

"Well the boss has spoken. I'll see you in the morning I imagine Blaine." Mike said with a nod before departing back to his own suite just a couple doors down from the clinic.

Once again, that left Blaine and Kurt in silence together. Blaine looked over at Kurt and smiled weakly, "Thank you again… for picking up."

Kurt let out a sigh and rolled his eyes up, earning him a curious arch of Blaine's oversized eyebrows. "One of us would have after we had decided to respond. It could have been Mike or Noah or Santana just as easily."

Well, probably not Santana Kurt thought to himself. She'd be the one most likely to sever the connection somehow to avoid having to leave Brittany for any length of time.

"Still… it was you… and your voice gave me hope. So thank you." Blaine reiterated before turning and leaving Kurt there, wondering if he should follow after Blaine just to ensure he was actually going to his designated apartment and not going to steal supplies. However, a guard strolled by then, and in the same direction that Blaine was going, so Kurt opted to head back to his home and let sleep take him. If the community was on fire when he returned, well, he had done more than his part in this matter.

He didn't even start a fire in his pit when he got back to his shack. Kurt just fell onto his bed and was out. Here was the only place he felt he could sleep safely. No one ever came to bother him here and he had enough snares and traps set up around that no dangerous animals could get by. Not that anything dangerous was often seen.

When he did awake, the sun was already at its peak and Kurt had barely moved an inch in sleep. He discovered he was sore when he got up, no doubt the result of being on a horse for a day and a bit, and chopping down that tree so ferociously. It didn't matter though, the best cure for sore muscles was moving them again so they didn't stiffen up more. He washed his face with the last bit of water in one of his water bottles, collected all the empties, and made his way back to the community after relieving himself behind a tree near his home.

It was harvest time so all the workers were out taking care of the crops they had. They grew a lot of wheat, oats, barley, rye, and other grains which seemed to grow well in the soil here. In addition they had a good crop of potatoes, carrots, onions, zucchini, lettuce, beans, tomatoes, peas, peppers, and cucumbers. Mercedes had even managed to have some of her people set up a raspberry garden. Fruits were the hardest to come by this far north, so the raspberries, cranberries, and blueberries were especially special to everyone. Rhubarb also grew easily in the climate, but was so tart that it usually had to be mixed with something sweet to temper the flavour. Kurt would kill these days for a real peach or orange.

Most of the food would be preserved in some manner, to last them through until the next harvest in the next year, but they always had a bit of a feast once all the food was in - a sort of Thanksgiving time celebration.

So far, they hadn't had to worry about drought up here. There had been enough rain since they started planting crops to ensure the plants grew. No one ever spoke though about the possibility of a dry year because they knew it would be the end of them and this community.

Since the workers were out, guards were helping with water distribution. Kurt turned in his empty bottles and collected his ration for the day, putting them into the backpack he had on in place of his arrow pack. Then he was off to the clinic.

On a typical day, Kurt would have gone out to see if his snares and traps had caught anything, but the overwhelming curiosity hit him as soon as he woke up - he wanted to see how their guests were doing and if anything new had occurred since last night.

Laughter is what he heard first when he walked in, certainly not the sound he was expecting. He walked towards it, into the room that must have been set up for Trent's recovery. The man he had only seen whimpering and laying down up until now was sitting up a bit in the bed and talking animatedly with Blaine who was sitting on a space on the edge of the bed and laughing at whatever had been said. Hovering over them both was Mike, who seemed to be checking Trent's vital signs as he held onto one of his wrists and counted the pulse rate under his breath.

Their conversation stopped though when Kurt walked in and Trent looked at him curiously. Awake now, Kurt could see what Mike was talking about. Trent definitely did not look like someone capable of killing Others. He was stocky and baby faced, with eyes that looked at Kurt with fear.

"Afternoon Kurt." Mike greeted as soon as he was done with Trent's pulse and had jotted it down on his clipboard.

Blaine too, smiled in his direction and gave him a nod of greeting. He still looked exhausted and Kurt wondered how well, if at all, he had slept last night because he looked completely worn and in this moment, even Trent looked healthier.

"Hey guys. Just checking in."

Blaine looked to Trent and noted, "Kurt. The one who picked up the call."

That seemed to trigger a memory in Trent, and Kurt watched as his face relaxed and an all too cheeky smile filled the lower half of his face. "Well I guess I have you to thank for my life Kurt! Thanks!"

Kurt's eyebrow crooked up and with a quick shake of his head he dismissed the gratitude. "I didn't do a damn thing." Regardless, he took a few more steps forward. "You look better."

It helped that Trent's leg was currently covered up by a blanket so Kurt didn't have to see it, though it was evident by how much bulkier one side of the bed was compared to the other where the injury was.

Trent smiled again. Actually it was more like he beamed and Kurt wondered if the guy knew that he was in here because he almost died and was now separated from his group because he looked positively joyful. "I'm happy to be here and not in a hole in the ground that's for sure. Thanks to you and Dr. Mike and -"

"Again. I'm not a doctor." Mike noted as he continued to make notes on his clipboard.

"- and the other women who work here as MEDICS…" Trent put extra emphasis on the word that the community had approved of for their medical personnel to let Mike know that he had been listening. "... and Canary here to help me get better. I'm sure I'll be fine in no time!"

Kurt's eyebrow remained up as he glanced towards Mike who gave him a look back. So Mike hadn't given him the full prognosis - at least not yet. And then of course, there was the name ascribed to Blaine. "Canary?"

Blaine and Trent chuckled together as Kurt questioned the name and in the next instant, Blaine was shrugging off his jacket to expose his arms, the one facing Kurt had a black tattoo of a bird, probably a Canary, and the actual word Canary in a banner which the bird was perched upon. "It's my Warbler codename."

"Warbler….?"

Mike snickered a little and walked out of the room, giving Kurt a pat on the back as he left, "You're going to love hearing all about this."

Kurt glanced to Mike as he left and then back to Blaine and Trent, waiting for the explanation. It was Blaine who gave it.

"Well… our group - we're the Warblers."

"That's… unique." Kurt said, trying to keep his eyebrows from lifting off his forehead.

"Anyhow… we all have a name of a songbird. I'm Canary, Trent here is Chickadee…" As if on cue, Trent turned slightly so that Kurt could see that he had a similar tattoo on his left bicep - though of a different bird and with his declared name written beneath it. "And Nick is Robin and Jeff is Bluejay and….."

"I get it. Why birds?" Kurt cut in. Really, knowing which of their friends was which bird was useless information to Kurt since he didn't even know the names of most of their friends.

"Well when we formed our group… we noticed that so many groups were trying to create this badass image. You know how many groups have called themselves the Wolfpack? It's beyond cliche." Trent started in on the explanation now.

Kurt snickered a little. He could imagine. Why any group would need a special name though was beyond him, but because he hadn't been away from this community since they settled here, he didn't know how other humans were living since The Tides, so he certainly wasn't going to question the necessity of a special name.

"Anyhow… most of us were in a school called Dalton and part of a group called The Warblers there. Blaine and I were only looking into going though at that point, we never actually were a part of the original Warbler school group.. anyhow. With all the Wolfpacks and Bearpacks and Sharks and Lions out there… we just decided to be a little bit more unique and go with Warblers."

Kurt nodded. It made sense he supposed - if not somewhat still ridiculous. "Which is why your quads had bird names all over them."

"Precisely." Blaine noted with a grin and a nod, pulling his jacket up over his arms again as he shrugged it back on. "Anyhow. We ran into this guy who had been in a prison and did tattoos for the guys when he was in there and he agreed to give us all our own tattoos a few years ago in exchange for some goods."

Kurt didn't know that he would let someone who had been a prison tattoo artist touch his arm, but clearly these guys didn't have the same reservations. He just nodded in acknowledgement of Blaine's words because, really, what could you say to someone who had just excitedly spoken about how he had let some old world criminal ink up his skin forever with a bird since he was a part of a group named after songbirds?

Luckily Trent chuckled as he recalled the memory Blaine spoke of and added his own take, "I remember we got soooo drunk to get them done. Some of us were so worried that women would take one look at them and decide we weren't worth their time with silly birds on us!"

More laughter from the pair and Kurt had to refrain from rolling his eyes. While he was fighting for survival in this community, along with everyone else, this Warbler group was more interested in body modification and getting some action. It really was surprising one of them hadn't had a stupidity induced accident earlier.

"Why bother to get them done if you had second thoughts and needed the alcohol?" Kurt asked then, finding a spot on the wall to lean against. They really needed to get a chair in here for guests.

"Oh… well… Wes, David, and Thad… our leaders, decided on it."

"Indeed."

"Speaking of which…." Blaine sat up and off the bed, stretching a little in place before turning to Kurt. "... I was hoping you could take me to whomever is in charge of this place. I need to thank them for letting us in and also figure out what I can do to not get in the way and also get our own food. I brought as many canned things as I could to start off, but I'm going to have to scavenge or hunt or something to make up for the rest…"

Kurt smirked a little. "We don't have traditional leadership here. Everyone votes… usually. Your situation was a little different. It was urgent, according to Mike, to get to Trent quickly if we were going to help him and most people were in bed by the time we picked up your call. Besides, you're both temporarily here."

"So… I have to talk to everyone about…."

Kurt shook his head. "No. We'll take whatever canned food you have to the chefs and let them determine how much more you need to bring in to cover for yourself and Trent. As far as thanking people, just make sure you do your part around here and don't get in trouble."

Blaine nodded and Trent spoke up from behind him. "Are you sure about this Blaine? I don't want to be the source of your troubles… I mean… I'm so grateful for what you've done for me, but this is going to be so much harder for you than it will be for me and -"

"Shut it Chickadee." Blaine snapped back gently, and grinned towards his friend. "We joined together, we leave together. I know you'd do the same for me and I'm happy to do it for you. You alright if I let Kurt take me to get the food I brought along for us and take it to his chefs?"

Trent nodded and Kurt's brow furrowed as he thought back to the last minute. He was pretty sure he had only just described how the food situation would work, not volunteered himself as Blaine's escort around town. Regardless, better him than Mike. Mike was not a fighter if the need arose and Kurt would make sure Blaine knew his place here in the community.

Kurt pushed off the wall and turned to leave, Blaine giving Trent a rushed goodbye as he followed after Kurt into the community.

As they walked to Blaine's apartment, Kurt definitely noticed all the eyes on the new addition, and it was clear Blaine noticed too as he avoided everyone's glances by looking down at the ground and walking with Kurt as quickly as his feet would let him to the apartment suite Tina had made up for him.

It wasn't much, but single people couldn't expect much more than a single room anyhow. One of the single mattresses they had pilfered from an old furniture store years ago lay on the floor with a sheet and a blanket which confirmed that Blaine hadn't slept last night given the unused state of it all. Blaine's luggage was all off the side, sitting open and he had clearly been trying to organize what he had brought better. One of the backpacks and one of the cargo bins was now entirely filled with canned goods, ready to be delivered to the chefs.

"Would you mind helping me?" Blaine asked of Kurt with a weak smile. He had already picked up the cargo bin when he asked and so Kurt was left with the slightly lighter backpack - though he was sure the seams on the bottom were strained to the max with all the weight it was carrying in it now.

"Shit. You boys really like the old world food…" Kurt grunted out with a grimace as he pulled on Blaine's pack over his own - which only had his water bottles in it anyhow.

"Well it's convenient since we're on the go most of the time… though we have had to talk about changing things up since it's getting harder to come by all the time."

Kurt walked out ahead of Blaine, trying not to let the bag on his back weigh him down as he led Blaine to the food storehouse. "You always carry this much food on you?"

"No… We usually have extra fuel in our cargo holds which takes up a lot of the space but I traded the guys our fuel for more food. Most of them were happy to help out."

"And the others…?"

"A few of them want to change things up…" Blaine admitted pensively as he followed Kurt, every now and then adjusting the weight on his hands which no doubt were strained themselves.

"Hmm." Kurt wasn't actively trying to get more information out of Blaine, but seemed easy enough to do so, and it was probably better he learned more about this man and his friend. "In here."

Kurt pushed open the door and held it open for Blaine who thanked him under his breath as he shuffled in with the load. He glanced over the eyes all taking in stock of the Blaine in the warehouse until he saw Brittany. "Brit!"

The blonde bounced over, eager to take a break in counting their inventory like they did everyday to make sure no one was stealing. "Kurt! New guy!"

Brittany also didn't have the wariness so many other people had. She just saw people as people without any negative assumptions, which meant she wouldn't be staring at Blaine the entire time as if he were an axe murderer about to cut into her.

"Blaine's fine." The man beside Kurt set down the cargo bin and extended one of his now very red hands to Brittany who eagerly took it and shook it back.

"Nice to meet you. What can I help you guys with?"

"Blaine here has a bunch of canned food he's submitting to cover his and the guy in the clinic, Trent's, food. Will you figure out how much he has and how much more he'll need to get through the winter?"

Brittany looked down at the cargo bin, and towards the backpack Kurt was happily stripping off his back before kneeling down and opening the bin to peek at it's contents. "Ooo! Spaghetti-O's! I remember having those as a kid! Pineapple… you have pineapple!"

Kurt salivated immediately on hearing that and had to swallow it back as several other chefs came running over to take stock of what Blaine had brought, making notes on items that were rare and in demand. He leaned over to Blaine and whispered.

"Any peaches?"

He got a curious look in response and then a nod, which nearly shot his heart right out of his chest. Peaches. Real peaches. Sure they had to be overly syrupy being stuck in a can for so long, but they would have the flavour.

"I'll bring in five rabbits in your name if you give me a can of peaches before they can inventory it."

It was more than a good deal, and Blaine, despite not being a part of this community and not knowing how things worked, seemed to figure that out on his own. He unzipped the backpack, which hadn't been touched by the chefs yet, dug into it for a moment, and pulled out a can of peaches - holding it out to Kurt who greedily grabbed the offering and hugged it to his chest. He was going to treat himself tonight.

Brittany chuckled as she noticed the action, the only one of her people that wasn't totally engrossed in looking over the new foods, and then shooed them away. "I'll let you guys know. In the meantime, I didn't see either of you at breakfast or lunch so you should go grab something."

Blaine's stomach growled then in perfect timing, causing an exchange of laughs between himself and Brittany while Kurt carefully put the can of peaches into his own backpack before nodding to Brittany and walking out with the other man hot on his trail.

"So you haven't eaten or slept. How exactly are you on your feet right now?"

Blaine shrugged up his shoulders. "Sheer willpower I guess."

Kurt didn't respond to that and led Blaine into the kitchen, going behind the counter and grabbing a couple of leftover meals. He then walked back out and sat down at one of the tables, watching as Blaine looked around curiously before joining him.

"This is like.. one of those old timey western places."

Kurt smirked and gave him a nod. The kitchen, as they called it now, was built over the old saloon and still had the look of a saloon inside - complete with swinging doors and wooden bar. The actual kitchen wasn't in here, but it's where people came to get food and eat together, so it had acquired the name.

Kurt bit into the sandwich he had before him hungrily and tried to ignore how Blaine watched him eat for a moment before finally succumbing to his own hunger and picking up his sandwich to eat as well. Most meals were either served on bread of some kind since they didn't have the excess water to wash plates and it also meant less clean up. Kurt had grabbed a couple of tomato and cucumber sandwiches for them to eat along with some wedges of cooked potatoes on the side.

"Oh god… this is really good." Blaine moaned over his sandwich before eagerly digging into it again.

Kurt licked over his lips to save some of the juice of the tomato that had slipped there and nodded, "They do a good job. I can't imagine living off of canned foods like you've been."

Blaine shook his head. "I can't imagine it either now that I've had this."

"Well I can imagine your stomach might complain when you rejoin your bird friends in the spring."

"Mmm… yes. They're going to be so jealous when I tell them about the food here. We sometimes run into other groups that are settled and have their own small farms, but nothing this big or organized. There must be no access to any major waterways around here."

Kurt just nodded his confirmation to Blaine, continuing to eat as he did. Kurt was a neat eater and chewed his food thoroughly between eat bite to savour the flavour. Blaine on the other hand didn't seem to have the patience to fully chew his food, or at least was really just that hungry, because he tore into the sandwich like it might run away on him, spilling tomato juice all down his fingers which he sloppily sucked and licked off.

"You eat like a five year old."

Blaine chuckled at that. "Sorry. I really was quite hungry but didn't want to be rude about asking. I didn't even bring a can opener with me despite having all those cans of food."

Kurt shook his head. "I guess I'll give you a tour once you've finished up. Or at least once I've finished up since I image you'll be done before me."

Another chuckled erupted from Blaine and sure enough, he finished well ahead of Kurt who took his time despite Blaine fidgetiness across from him.

When Kurt was done, he explained to Blaine how meals worked - three per day, anything more you had to hunt or gather for yourself. If you went scavenging, you were expected to give at least 90% of your findings back to the community. 100% for Blaine since he was also expected to help take care of Trent's food. When there were dishes to be washed, you had to use your own water rations.

Blaine nodded as Kurt explained, not speaking at all, and so Kurt led him out then for a tour of the community. He showed him where to get his daily water rations, where he could trade for non-essentials - like extra clothing, soaps, spices, and even little trinkets. Kurt made a point of suggesting to Blaine that he could even get a razor there if he wanted, to which Blaine shrugged.

"I need to give everything I can to the community so Trent is taken care of."

Kurt snorted a little at that. "No one is going to care if you trade for a razor. In fact, it might even improve your standing."

Blaine rubbed over the black scruff on his face. "Really? You think?"

"You look like a hobo."

Blaine laughed once again and Kurt knew then that this man was easily amused. "Everyone tends to look a little homeless when our planet has been overrun by Others and our homes are no more."

"Still."

Blaine continued to follow along after Kurt like a puppy, taking in the sights and avoiding the suspicious eyes of other members of the community. He. thankfully, didn't push Kurt into awkward conversation and only asked the odd clarifying question as Kurt showed him where the workers office was, explained what they did, explained the guard situation, and how most people in the community had an assigned role.

"What's your role?"

Kurt shook his head. "I started off as a kind of worker. My dad had an auto shop so I did mechanic work - but that got slow after the first couple years once our vehicles died and it was decided we didn't want to attract any unnecessary attention with the noise they make. Then I took up hunting to help our food supply. Turns out I'm a decent hunter so I do a bit of that, help out with guarding, fix our solar generators when they need attention, and go on scavenging trips."

Blaine grinned at him. "So you're the local jack of all trades!"

"You could say that." Kurt said with a shrug. Really he didn't fit in well in any specific group so, just like he was before The Tides, he stayed on the periphery.

Kurt then showed Blaine where the invalids and elderly lived, in that old brothel that always gave him an involuntary shudder when he passed by it. He didn't say anything to Blaine, but Kurt suspected that Trent might end up in there if they couldn't get him walking.

"What do you do out here for fun?"

Kurt looked back at Blaine, seeing it was a genuine question by how he waited for Kurt's response with rapt attention. "There's a decent board games collection, some people have instruments they play, there's a group of women that have made it their mission to decorate their homes with their do-it-yourself crafts, every now and then they hold a dance… but for the most part, we just live day by day."

"I meant… what do YOU do." Blaine reiterated, holding his gaze on Kurt.

"Ah…" Kurt had to think a moment about that. What did he do for fun? What was fun even for him? "... I don't. I keep myself busy."

"Sounds boring."

Kurt felt his chest tighten up and he whipped his head around to look down at the other man. "It SOUNDS like I'm making sure I stay alive out here and help others do so as well. You have no right to judge how boring or not my life is."

Blaine's hands shot up, palms out in surrender. "Whoa. Okay. Sorry. Didn't mean to upset you. Sorry."

Kurt huffed and looked back ahead as they walked, "In the future. Keep your opinions to yourself."

"Sure thing."

Kurt kept the rest of the tour quick and ended back at the clinic, dropping Blaine back off to spend time with Trent while he went to go check his traps and snares. For some reason the simple question of what he did for fun was upsetting him and he couldn't figure out why. It shouldn't have been an issue, except that no matter how hard he tried to think, he couldn't come up with an answer. Fun wasn't in his life anymore and he couldn't remember the last time he considered something being fun. Sure the world had changed for him and everyone else, but he still saw other people occupying themselves in their free time with hobbies and friends. Kurt, however, had nothing else. He was good at hunting, but he didn't really enjoy it any more than he enjoyed eating or washing himself - it was just something he did to exist. Beyond that he just worked and slept.

The fact that fun was no longer in his vocabulary meant that Kurt wasn't living anymore, he was just simply, existing.


	6. Chapter 5: Neighbours

"_**It's a perfectly human instinct to want to be near water." Stone Gossard**_

He was dancing and swaying to the music - real music. Like he hadn't heard in years. Dressed to the nines in a tuxedo along with everyone else in a beautiful ballroom. He felt light, carefree, absolutely wonderful.

And then Kurt woke up.

He hated that moment between sleeping and being fully awake where he remembered his dreams and longed to just lay back and hide in them. It was the worst temptation for him. After the Tides, so many people took to drinking or drug use to hide in their fantasies, but at this point there were no more drug dealers and alcohol was saved for special events. You couldn't even have a simple addiction in this place.

The smokers had been the worst. When the cigarettes ran out, some of them went through their cold turkey withdrawal alright, but others tried to smoke everything else in sight - grass included, to try and get their fix. Now they were fine, but at the time they had a whole group of people who were sweaty and shaking constantly with withdrawal symptoms.

Kurt went about his morning routine, stoking the fire in his hut so the coals kept the place warm throughout the day and changing into a cleaner outfit. He never used the word clean to describe his clothes, because for all the scrubbing and washing he did, he never could get them as clean as they could have been with a washer and dryer. Nor did they ever smell so good. The best he could hope for was that they didn't smell of mildew.

He got his water rations, came back to the shack, washed himself, and carefully shaved his face. He had a small mirror that he used to shave, but years of being subjected to the elements, especially the winter cold, meant it was foggy and cracked. Kurt kept meaning to grab a new one on a scavenging, but he always seemed to forget and since he only ever used it to shave, it wasn't a huge concern. It wasn't like he had a nighttime skin regimen or anything.

When he was all done, Kurt checked his traps and snares and then brought in a gopher that had gotten caught to the chefs. He went to check the guard schedule to see when he was patrolling next, and then finally went to check up on their guests at the clinic.

Kurt really didn't know how Blaine expected to help with food since he had spent almost all of his waking hours in the clinic with Trent. He understood that they were close, and that since Blaine was in a new place it was easier to be with someone he knew, but if he intended to make good on his promise, then he needed to start contributing back to the community.

Carole gave Kurt a sweet smile and a nod as he entered the clinic. She was with Sam, a worker, and he was showing her something on his hand and saying that it it didn't bug him until he woke up this morning and she in turn chastised him for not coming to see her sooner.

"Hey Kurt." A pair of voices both called out to greet him as he entered what had now become Trent's room.

Blaine had gotten a chair in here at some point, which he was now sitting on beside Trent's bed. With the help of a lot of old throw pillows, Trent was sitting up in his bed. Blaine, as always, looked completely exhausted and Kurt was beginning to think that was his normal look. Trent on the other hand, looked completely well rested and perky. If it wasn't for the fact that his leg was healing, Kurt would expect him to be bouncing around the room given his general disposition.

"Just checking in." Kurt nodded to both of them. "Anything I can help with?"

Trent, ever polite, shook his head with a smile, "Everything is just peachy thanks."

Blaine's gaze shifted up to Kurt and then down to the floor, and it looked like he had something to ask of Kurt, but didn't speak up. Kurt made a mental note to talk to him later to see if he was reading him right.

"Alright then. Have a good day."

Kurt left and nodded again to Carole on his way out, who was wrapping a bandage around Sam's hand and muttering about how he needed to take better care of himself while Sam groaned and apologized for his apparent idiocy over and over. It wasn't the first time Kurt had seen Sam in here for some injury, and if the rumors were true, he got into trouble by trying to impress Mercedes. Clearly the boy didn't know how to go about impressing her because if the way she ran the workers was any indication, she was impressed by dedication and getting things done right.

Not that Kurt was exactly an expert on the way women worked though.

The rest of the day went by in its usual blur. He rode out into the woods and stalked a deer for several hours before shooting it fatally and then bringing it back to the community atop an old sled fixed with wheels he had the horse drag. He brought in the five rabbits he had promised Blaine for the peaches, which he still hadn't eaten and was saving for an especially bad day, and agreed to go on another scavenging trip scheduled for a few days away.

This particular evening though was the community meeting. Every few weeks the community got together in the field just outside the town limits where news was shared and issues were shared. The meal they got for the evening was always extra good on these particular days because in addition to their supper, they also would get dessert. The only ones who didn't attend the meetings were those who were especially invalid and whichever medic was on duty. Kurt presumed Trent would be staying behind, but Blaine should go.

He wondered if anyone had even told Blaine.

That question in his mind led him back to the clinic prior to when the meeting was scheduled to begin and nodding to Mike who seemed to be deeply ingrained in reading a textbook and didn't even noticed Kurt go by. When he got to Trent's room, he discovered Trent was sleeping, with a full on snore, and Blaine looked ready to join him in napping as he laid back all too relaxed in his chair.

"Come on Blaine. It's monthly meeting."

Blaine groggily looked up, squinting as he looked over at Kurt in a half-sleep haze. "Wha?"

"Every month there's a community meeting. You're coming."

"Wha? Why?" Blaine was rubbing his eyes now and leaning forward.

"Because until spring, you're a part of the community and you have to participate. Now get your ass up or we'll be late."

Blaine stood up and braced the small of his back with his hands for a moment as he stretched himself there with a groan. That chair couldn't have been comfortable and yet he spent so much time in it. After that he walked towards Kurt who turned when he got close enough and led the way to the field.

It was already packed, with the children playing in groups throughout the mix of adults who mostly sat on blankets they had brought out as they ate their meal. Kurt and Blaine lined up for their serving and Kurt watched as Blaine just looked around with ever widening eyes at the crowd.

"Kurt… how many people are there in this community?"

Kurt did the math in his head, "Somewhere around three hundred give or take."

Blaine shook his head in disbelief, "I have never seen this many humans in one place ever… not even half as many… Why haven't I noticed how many were here until now?"

"Most of the workers have been out collecting the harvest and there's also a lot of people helping the chefs preserve and keep that food for the winter. Depending on when you get up - most people are out for the day already."

"Wow…"

They got their dinner - potato wedges (that were even lightly salted), roasted green beans and carrots, and stewed venison pieces all served on a piece of flatbread. Kurt caught a glimpse of the dessert and groaned though.

"Not crab apple's again…"

"Really?" Blaine asked from behind him, already taking bites of his dinner even though they hadn't even sat down yet. Kurt had to wonder if the boy was born in a barn with his manners - or lack thereof.

"We found all these crab apple trees a month ago and now everything remotely resembling anything sweet has been made with them. Crab apple jam, crab apple salad… and that looks like…"

"Crab apple cobbler Kurt!" Brittany announced and dished him out a slice of it on top of a space on his flatbread.

Kurt wrinkled up his nose at the item, but thanked Brittany and didn't say anything until he found a clear spot to sit in, Blaine joining him already half through his own meal.

"Carrots for cobbler?"

Blaine looked over at him, licking his fingers already from the salt on the potato wedges and nodded quickly, "Oh hell yes."

They swapped the items in question and Kurt ate slowly while Blaine engulfed his meal rapidly and then laid back on the ground with a groan, citing he was beyond full.

He was almost kind of cute like that.

Kurt was just finishing up when Rachel stood up in the middle of the crowd. "Thank you all for coming out tonight! I haven't seen so many of you since you've been out all day so it's nice to get a chance to catch up! We're going to start tonight with news from the clinic, then the workers, the guards, and then other points of note."

Blaine leaned over to whisper to Kurt, now sitting up again since his stomach had apparently settled. "I thought you said you didn't have a leader. Who's she?"

Kurt leaned back to whisper his response. "Rachel. She's not a leader. She's one of the teachers for the kids here and she's just good at getting everyone to pay attention to her so she usually starts things up."

Blaine made a small o with his mouth and nodded, paying attention as Carole stood up and updated the group on their supply levels, the fact they had successfully patched up Trent's leg, and to remind everyone that an older woman, Mrs. Crawsky, was in the final stages of her cancer and to please pay her a visit or keep her in your prayers and thoughts. She then asked for volunteers to bring the tub into the clinic in the next week.

"What tub?" Whispered Blaine.

"When it gets cold, hypothermia becomes a real and regular issue. They have one of those old style tubs in storage they bring into the clinic and keep over a small fire with water in it in case they need to heat someone up - but only if the hypothermia is mild. A warm bath isn't good for someone with severe hypothermia."

"What do they do if it's severe hypothermia?" Blaine asked with a hint of dread in his voice.

Leaning back on his hands, Kurt watched as Carole noted down people who were volunteering and telling them she'd let them know when they were ready to move the tub while he responded to Blaine. "Aside from pray for the best? CPR, wrapping up the person in warmed blankets, and trying to get them to drink warm fluids. Apparently they did have the technology to help people with severe hypothermia before the Tides in hospitals, but now we don't have access to that."

Then Carole noted that her colleague, the midwife, had also developed cancer, and pending their ability to do something about it (which was sadly unlikely in this place), they would be training another medic.

After the crowd glanced over to the midwife mournfully and apologized to her for her bad luck, and really, she was well into her sixties so she was already living longer than most people did out here, Carole spoke up again.

"Since Kurt has once again declined training, we're going to open it up to other interested persons and then judge their qualities as a potential medic."

No one look surprised at that, aside from Blaine who arched an eyebrow in Kurt's line of sight. When Kurt didn't respond, he asked, "Why wouldn't you take them up on that?"

"Because it's not for me." Kurt shot back so directly that Blaine wouldn't question him further on it. Carole and Mike had asked him yesterday when he stopped by the clinic. His stomach had gotten stronger over the years, and blood and gore no longer fazed him. What did upset him though was the thought that he might have to tell someone, some child, there was nothing that he could do for their parent. Or worse, tell a parent there was nothing they could do for their child. What heart he did have couldn't take it, and even though he might have the steady hands and the ability to think quickly in tough situations, he knew he wouldn't be able to handle being responsible for someone's death.

So Kurt had politely declined the offer once again. A few years ago they had asked and he had declined then and Mike had been selected in his place, and Mike was certainly better suited for it than he was. Now they'd find someone else who was better suited again.

And even though they didn't always have the need for three medics, it allowed them to cycle in eight hour shifts and have the support they needed for emergencies.

"So… hypothermia. How do I make sure I don't get that?" Blaine murmured over as Mercedes started talking about harvest inventory.

"You find and wear thermal underwear all the time, under clothing that's warm already. Double up on socks. Get outerwear that not only keep the warmth in but breaks the wind. Always keep your head and fingers covered, and never go out in a blizzard without someone with you in case you fall in deep snow. Reuse tracks that have already been made and keep your back to the wind."

Kurt was matter-of-fact as he described the necessities, though was inwardly amused by how Blaine's face went pale and then gawked a little as Kurt went on to describe how to tell if you had frostbite and how to never go out with wet hair in the cold.

"... it will turn into icicles and can snap off easily. Though in your case, a haircut wouldn't be a bad thing."

Blaine managed a weak smile at that. "Because I look like a hobo?"

"Because you look like a hobo." Kurt reaffirmed plainly, looking back towards Mercedes as she spoke.

For the rest of the announcements, they sat in relative silence together, although Blaine would periodically ask Kurt to clarify something or identify who was speaking. For Kurt, it was a new experience because he usually sat by himself at these things, maintaining his lone wolf status. It wasn't because he didn't want to sit with anyone, but because they avoided him and that had become status quo. Because it was new to him, it was uncomfortable, but in a nice way. Too often he only had conversations with the voice in his head and that voice was all too often negative. Blaine was, at the very least, pleasant to speak to. He didn't complain or criticize, and certainly seemed open to learning about the community in order to be accepted as one of them.

That being said, Kurt was ready to be alone again once the meeting was done. Most people stuck around and used the meeting as an excuse to play music on the instruments they had and dance and play, but for Kurt, it was more socialization than he could handle and he was ready to get to bed. So when he got up to leave, and Blaine got up to follow, he had to say something.

"You can stay. Make friends. I'm off for the night."

Blaine smiled meakly, his head ducking a bit as he looked to Kurt. "Actually I was hoping I could talk to you about something…."

Kurt winced. He recalled the look Blaine had given him earlier in the clinic and also remembered how he had made a mental note to ask Blaine what was going on. Apparently that mental note had gotten lost in a pile in his head and now he was going to have to delay sleep for it.

He nodded to Blaine and walked off, Blaine walking quickly beside him, having to walk faster to account for the fact that not only did Kurt have long legs and could take longer strides with them, but always walked with a sense of urgency to begin with. They were already halfway to Kurt's shack when the quiet became unbearable. He imagined that Blaine would have asked his question the instant they moved out of earshot but it seemed like Blaine was waiting for something.

"Well?"

"Well…" Blaine shoved his hands in his pocket, darting his eyes up to Kurt. "... I haven't been able to sleep."

Kurt squinted a little and looked towards Blaine incredulously. "I'm not a doctor or medic or anything. Talk to Mike or Carole if you have a health issue."

"Oh. No. It's not health related… well… not directly…." Blaine said, eyes rounding as he realized he had sent Kurt the wrong message.

"Then what?"

A sigh followed and after a moment more of steady walking, Blaine spoke again. "The walls in that place as so thin…. I hear everyone else. Above, below, beside….."

"You're not paying rent so you shouldn't complain."

"And I'm not! At least not about that…."

Kurt groaned inwardly. Blaine was going to drag it out and all he wanted to do was get to bed.

"... The people above me… well they have two kids and a baby and that baby cries. I've been around babies before… but never this much. Everytime it cries I end up awake for hours because I can't settle myself down…"

"Again, not seeing how this affects me."

"... and the guy beside me… he's old. Like almost to the point where he should be in that home you pointed out to me on the tour. I'm pretty sure he wets himself and I don't know how to politely address that…."

"Waiting for the point."

"... on the other side there's a couple and they talk about how I have an ear chain, and I'm sorry, but everywhere else those things are normal so it's weird that you don't have them here. But the guy, I've heard him talk about how he's keeping a knife on him just in case I make any wrong move…"

"So don't make any wrong moves."

"... Then there's the guy below me. He had some people over the first night I was here and they talked about swiping my stuff while I slept. I don't keep a lot, but what I do keep is important to me or at least hard to come by, so I end up…"

" - Afraid of sleeping lest they make good on the threat."

"Right."

Kurt reached the door of his shack at this point and pushed it open, though leaned in the doorway to, hopefully, finish off the conversation. There wasn't really enough room for two people to be comfortable in his shack, and aside from the odd visit from Brittany and Mike when he had been sick in the past to deliver food and medicine, he didn't have visitors. It was purely his space and his alone.

Blaine peeked behind Kurt into the shack and then wrung his hands together nervously.

"So I get that you're having a hard time sleeping in that situation, but I can't help you with that. If you want a new room assignment you need to see Mercedes who keeps tabs on who stays where."

"Actually… " Blaine pressed his lips together before finally coming out with it. "... I was thinking… maybe I could hot bunk with you?"

Kurt just looked at Blaine for a moment, making sure he wasn't actually making a very bad joke that someone must have put him up to, but the sincerity shone through on Blaine's face, particularly in hopeful, honey eyes.

"No."

That made those honey eyes widen in panic, "Please! I'll sleep whenever you don't want to! You wouldn't even notice me!"

"No."

"Kurt… come on…" Blaine glanced behind him, back towards where the town was and then back to Kurt. "I can't get a decent night of sleep there. I'm living off the bits I can nap when I'm with Trent and I have most of my stuff hidden under his bed in the clinic right now but Mike says I can't keep it there."

"Absolutely not."

"You're the only one who's been truly nice to me… and I know it's a lot to ask but I feel like I'm going to fall over and I don't know how I'm supposed to help with anything when it's an effort right now to keep myself upright!"

Kurt groaned and rubbed his palm over his face and back over his hair. The guy just did not get it. It wasn't an option. It wasn't going to happen.

"Please Kurt…"

Kurt's head snapped up then. He needed to make this clear. He couldn't have Blaine begging him to share his space later because it seemed like he was waffling on the idea.

"No. Stop asking. It's not going to happen. Short of making your own place to stay, you're stuck where you are so learn to adapt to your situation. You made your choice now live with it."

He wished he could slam the door for dramatic effect, but he doubted his small home could withstand the shake it would cause, so instead he closed the door on Blaine as he backed into his home and waited until he heard footsteps walking away before removing his hand from said door.

He hoped that would be the end of it.

And it seemed to. Blaine didn't bring it up again over the next couple days when Kurt stopped by the clinic, though he looked more exhausted than ever. If Kurt wasn't so preoccupied and set on how right he was about the matter, it might have made him feel guilty. But Kurt knew he was correct when it came to it. It was better for Blaine to be closer to Trent, and better for Kurt to be alone and not having to worry about someone else touching his stuff. He didn't have a precious lot in this world, but what he did have, he didn't want to share.

"You should try setting heated rocks from the fire into the tub so we can limit the wear on the bottom of this thing." Kurt intoned as he smoothed a hand over the lumpy base of the old tub which had now been moved into one of the rooms of the clinic.

Mike rubbed a hand over his chin as he stood back and watched Kurt thoughtfully. Along with Kurt, Mike's chin was smooth, but more because of his asian descent than for any other reason. "Actually, that makes a lot of sense. Why didn't we think of that before?"

"That's how they heat up the sweatlodges too. Water poured over rocks from a fire…" Kurt said as he stood up. It wasn't a very common event, given their need to preserve water, but a few times in the winter, the aboriginal elders from the area had a traditional sweat - since there was so much snow they could use for their water. Kurt had gone a few times, and while he didn't care for sweating in the usual sense, the sweat he experienced in a sweatlodge was different - cleansing even. Plus it was one of the few things he could rely on to help with the kinks in his back.

"Never been to one. Keep getting invited though." Mike noted.

"I was skeptical too. It all sounded a little hokey to me." Kurt internally winced at his use of the word hokey. That was definitely something his dad would have said. "But I'm glad I did. You don't have to buy into the spiritual side of it, you can always go to sooth the joints and just to enjoy it."

Mike nodded, eyes wandering over the room as he mentally planned out how he wanted the hypothermia relief room to be set up for the winter. It was such a common occurrence that they needed a room dedicated to it - though Kurt often wondered if some people didn't just acquire a mild case of hypothermia on purpose so they could have an excuse to have a warm bath.

With Mike occupied, Kurt wandered into Trent's room to say farewell. He was leaving with Santana and Quinn for another scavenging mission and probably wouldn't be back for a couple days. Both Blaine and Trent cheerfully said goodbye and good luck, and that was the last Kurt would see of them until his return.

The scavenging went as well as it usually did. Since they had already ransacked most of the shops in the town they went to, they were now going through homes and apartments one by one. The horses were well loaded by the time they returned and Kurt had even found himself a wealth of new socks for the winter. One could not understate the importance of good socks in a Northern winter.

When they had unloaded the mix of clothing, recovered medicine and prescriptions, preserved foods, and blankets they had brought back, Kurt happily made his way back to his home, expecting to be able to just flop into his bed and sleep through until morning.

However, his home was not standing alone anymore.

When Kurt reached the point where he could see his shack, it was immediately evident that someone had decided to take up residence beside him. Another structure, made of thin logs and bound together with twine, had been erected. It was smaller than Kurt's place, if that was even possible, and still looked like it was being made. In fact, chopping wood beside the small abode was none other than Blaine.

Kurt was livid.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" was how he chose to greet Blaine, arms flying out to either side as he gesticulated wildly.

The other man stopped his chopping and set the axe into the log he was using as a base to chop the wood with. He rubbed the sweat off his forehead with the back of his wrist and it was then Kurt noticed, that despite it already being chilly with autumn, that Blaine wasn't wearing his trademark jacket. He was in just his T-shirt, which was soaked in his own sweat.

"Building my own place."

Kurt's eyes snapped away from where they had fallen to staring at the abdomen lines beneath Blaine's shirt and back up to his face, glaring furiously. "No. No. I thought I made it clear. You do not get to stay with me. My space. MINE."

Blaine smirked and the twitch of his mouth upwards sent Kurt into an inner rage. Damn smug idiot. What the hell did he have to be so certain over?

"No. You said I couldn't stay with you and that my only other option was to make my own place to stay. You also said people shouldn't be alone when it gets real cold - so I'm doing us both a favour."

Kurt's jaw fell and he stared at Blaine as his mind processed that and corroborated the statement with his memories. Shit. He had said all that, though this was far from what he intended to happen.

"I don't like other people around me." Kurt hissed between clenched teeth as he advanced on Blaine, who stepped backwards in turn. "That's the point. I don't want neighbours. I live far away from the main town so I can be alone."

Blaine's eyes remained locked with Kurt as he moved in tandem with Kurt.

"Well that's sad."

Kurt stopped then. "Sad?! Why? Who the hell are you to judge if wanting to be alone makes me sad?" His heart was racing and his mind became a jumble of different responses and emotions.

"No one. I'm no one…" Blaine said softly, holding his ground now as he watched Kurt unfold before him. "... but I just don't understand why, in this world where there's so few of us left, that you wouldn't want to be around your own kind. What is so horrible about other people?"

Kurt snorted. "Hell is other people…" Catching Blaine's quirked eyebrow he explained. "It's a quote from Sartre's No Exit…. a play."

"Don't know it… but since we're going to be neighbours maybe you can enlighten me on it." Blaine suggested, prompting Kurt to groan and hide his face in his palm.

"You can't live here. You can't. This is my place…"

"Property laws and land claims don't exist anymore Kurt… I'm sorry you're so upset about this. I thought it would have been a nice surprise that you didn't have to be so alone out here but…."

"But you thought wrong." Kurt snapped, looking back up. "Make it somewhere else."

Blaine glanced back, wide eyed, at the already mostly completely little hut and then back at Kurt, "I've been working on it since you left… three days. Mike even came to help me out to have it ready. I just can't move it."

Mike. Mike would have endorsed this. Kurt made a mental note to talk to Mike later. "I don't care. Figure out how or rebuild somewhere else."

"Why are you so insistent on needing your own space Kurt?"

"None of your business. Just move it."

Blaine shook his head. "No. I put a lot of work into this and it's getting colder all the time. I can't restart."

"Then stay in the town. There was nothing wrong with where you were."

"Except that I couldn't trust anyone around me and couldn't sleep yes. Last night I slept out here and it was the first time I was truly able to relax since I got here. I'm staying in there Kurt."

That was it. Kurt couldn't think of anything he could say that would have any more weight with this man, and there wasn't anything he could do. It wasn't in his nature to commit arson or assault, and both would get him in trouble. They didn't have an established law system out here, but people were pretty good at respecting general laws of human decency and it went without saying that those who committed any crimes could expect some kind of consequence.

Uttering a string of curses under his breath, Kurt stalked to his own shack then and had to remind himself once again not to slam the door. That's where he stayed all night, listening as Blaine chopped and dragged wood around, hearing every explicit word grumbled by Blaine whenever he made some kind of mistake, and otherwise brooding.

Now how was he supposed to sleep comfortably? Blaine might have an easy time of it, but now that Kurt had to worry about his things and his own safety, how was he supposed to be comfortable?

But Kurt did manage to nod off, and stay asleep through the night, waking only once when he thought he heard the growl of a wolf but instead realizing it was his new neighbour snoring. How obnoxious.

When he went to get his water rations in the morning, Blaine was already awake and back to work setting up his little house. Kurt had to give him some credit, he certainly seemed to have more of an idea when it came to building than Kurt did when he made his place. Everything was neatly lined up and looked secure. The mud he was packing between the spaces of the wood panels was the perfect consistency (it took Kurt a few years to figure that one out), and he was even making himself an elevated floor in half the room where Kurt guessed his bed would go.

If any good was to come of this, it would be that Kurt would claim that hut when Blaine left in the spring - if only for storage.

Blaine gave Kurt a rudimentary nod from where he was engrossed in roof construction, and, deciding it wasn't worth the hassle of continuing to fight over it, Kurt nodded back.

"So. New neighbour." Mike said with a smug grin when Kurt entered the clinic after retrieving his water bottles.

"Why the hell would you go along with this idea Mike? Of all people here, I thought you might understand that I like my privacy? Did I do something to piss you off and this is retaliation?"

Slightly taken aback, Mike took a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking while Kurt crossed his arms over his chest and stared patiently.

"Kurt… the way you live… it's not healthy."

"The fuck it is. I get sick the least out of anyone in this town."

"That's not what I mean and you know it." Mike shot back, staring back at Kurt just as intently.

Rolling his lips together, Kurt kept silent. He did know it, but Mike wasn't a psychologist. Hell, he wasn't even a real doctor. How Kurt kept himself afloat was his business only, not Mike's.

"I appreciate that you THINK you know what you're talking about and you went along with this because you had good intentions, but you don't know a damn thing about me."

Mike cocked an eyebrow as he regarded Kurt in turn. "Well, I know that you have progressively shut out everyone in this community and have this "fabulous" tendency to alienate those who want to try to befriend you. I know you dedicate all your waking hours to guarding and scavenging and hunting but don't really do anything aside from that. I know that whenever you walk by the wall, you always stare at your dad's name even when you think no one is paying attention."

Kurt's eyes formed slits as he glowered towards Mike, his insides seething. "Why the hell does any of that matter? Who told you to give a crap?"

"You do." Mike said with a slap of his hand to the desk he was sitting at to accentuate his point. "You gave up this position that I went into. A position where it's my job to give a crap about the people in this community - yourself included. When you gave up this post, you gave me the job - and now I'm acting on it. You know what you do when you shut everyone out like you do?"

Kurt stayed quiet, but waited for the point.

"You slowly become less human. You know how humanity is defined? The capacity for caring and befriending others. The more you shut others out, the more you become like THEM."

The Others. Mike was implying that his coldness made him less human and more like them. In a way, it did make sense - but it was definitely a stretch based on Mike's loose interpretation of a definition. That being said, it didn't stop Mike from talking.

"Look, I know you used to get bugged about your ears when you were younger - but that's so long in the past it's irrelevant. What you're doing now though... What you have been doing… it's already making people more wary of you then I think you realize. You need to open up more Kurt. Enjoy the life you have."

"You need to spend more time on treating people with actual problems and less time on creating imaginary issues for people Mike." Kurt spat then, turning on his heels so he would effectively have the last word - no matter how pathetic he felt about his word choice. Insulting Mike was a low blow, and not something he'd normally reduce himself to, but Mike's words had left his head spinning and unable to come up with anything more coherent.

So to hell with him. There was nothing wrong with him. He did what he needed to do to survive and help out. If anyone had a problem with that then they were the one's who should seek mental help support because anyone who had an issue with how much Kurt did for everyone else was suffering from a severe case of stupidity.

He checked his traps, went hunting, found a massive pumpkin growing wild which he brought back instead of a kill, spent several hours patrolling the perimeter of the community, did a lesson on tanning for the kids at Finn and Rachel's school house, checked the solar generators, tuned the piano they kept in the kitchen hall, and then went out to hunt goose.

When he returned home, he had a goose to clean for himself. He had missed supper and instead of making another trip out to the town, he decided to just prepare and roast his goose over his own fire.

Blaine had been busy during the day and his little shack looked complete. He seemed to be in the process now of chopping wood for his own firepit and had lost his shirt at some point. Like the rest of him, the skin on his torso was sunkissed, lean, and toned. Unlike Kurt, he had curly black hair scattered over his chest and drawing a line down his stomach and into his jeans.

Since Blaine was preoccupied, Kurt let his eyes linger for just a moment before his sense of reason caught up with him and he cleared his throat on approach to let Blaine know he was back.

"God. You stink." Was how Kurt greeted him when Blaine was wiping the sweat off his brow with the discarded shirt which he had scooped up from the group where he must have dropped it earlier. Kurt didn't mean to be so abrupt with his choice of words, but the man did stink horribly of sweat at the moment and Kurt wondered how long it had been since he washed himself.

Thankfully, as seemed to be in Blaine's nature, he laughed off the comment and nodded to Kurt, eyes drifting to the goose. "I've been trying to get this done between visits to Trent. I don't want him to think I abandoned him but also want this done so I can just relax while I'm here."

Kurt nodded and then turned to head back to his own shack, which looked positively dilapidated compared to the new hut standing steady beside it. Suddenly he understood what it meant to be living in the ghetto.

"Hey!"

Kurt turned and looked back at Blaine questioningly.

"Thanks, for… you know. Letting me stay by you. I know it's not really what you're comfortable with but you could have made a much bigger deal out of it than you did and I appreciate it."

Kurt gave him an acknowledging nod and was about to turn back to head into his own shack when Blaine spoke up again.

"What's the duck for?"

"I missed supper and felt like cooking for myself tonight. And it's a Canadian Goose - not a duck. You think for someone who has the nickname of Canary, you might know your birds better."

A chuckle. "Right. Not too familiar with the local wildlife… this is farther north than we've ever gone before. Any animals I should be afraid of?"

Kurt sighed. He just wanted to go inside and pluck the damned goose but those honey eyes were pleading for company and so Kurt sat where he was and began pulling the feathers off the bird there and then. "Wolves occasionally - but they stay away from us if we stay away from them. Foxes are pretty much harmless. So are lynxes and I haven't seen any of those in awhile. Someone once had a bad encounter with a wolverine but they were scavenging farther north than usual. You can pretty much guess who it is…."

"That guy with the scars across his face?"

Kurt nodded, "Yup. So many stitches and he still looks like the cuts are fresh even though it was a few years ago now. Moose you actually have to watch out for."

"Really?"

Kurt nodded again, making a nice conical pile of feathers beside him. Thankfully there was no wind so he wouldn't have a problem collecting the feathers to replenish the down in his winter jacket. "They're big and ornery. Don't get in their way. If you're hunting one, make sure you're going to kill it with one shot."

"Yah… about that…." Blaine rubbed the back of his neck in that nervous twitch he had. "I've never hunted before…."

Kurt looked up from the half bald goose corpse, eyeing Blaine incredulously. "You said you'd hunt to help out."

"I said I'd try to… I mean… I've got this…" He leaned over and pulled up the leg of his pants, exposing an ankle holster in which a gun was holstered.

"What the hell Blaine?" Kurt snapped then, gesturing towards the exposed gun. Suddenly the ammunition he found amount Blaine's things in the cargo made sense. "You're worried about what other people are going to do to you and you have a gun? You just better be damn glad the community doesn't know about it."

"No kidding…" Blaine uttered in a low breath. "Anyhow. I could probably shoot something with it…"

"The hell you will. The noise of a gunshot will scare off all the other animals and I hunt daily. Keep that thing away. Save it for The Others."

Blaine pursed his lips and remained quiet, though nodded to let Kurt knew he understood. After a moment, Kurt began defeathering the goose again.

"One of the worst issues up here is actually black widow spiders… they bite and you know it. Had an outbreak of them a couple years ago."

"Really huh? The smallest thing causes the biggest problems. How… metaphorical."

"Beavers too. If you get close to one of their dams at a creek, watch out. Territorial little buggers with big teeth. Almost severed a guy's major artery in his leg once."

Blaine chuckled and nodded again. "Gotcha."

"Finally, not a serious health threat, but skunks. Just leave them alone unless you want to get sprayed. You already smell homeless anyhow."

"I needed to make sure my perfume went with my hair and beard." Blaine quipped back, actually earning him a small smile from Kurt who peeked up when he said it.

"When was the last time you washed yourself?"

Given that Blaine had to stop and think about it, Kurt automatically knew it had been too long and stood up, the completely bald goose in one hand and a handful of feathers in the other. "You wash yourself tonight or I will serve you an eviction notice."

Blaine laughed, and it was such a musical sound that Kurt's heart picked up pace just a little, and then agreed to make sure he smelled better for Kurt's benefit before Kurt left him and returned to his small sanctuary to cook his meal.

He was still unsure about it, but Kurt actually felt more open to Blaine living beside him. If it would keep Mike off his case and make him seem less like an outsider to the community, maybe there was value in it, and even if it didn't do either of those things, at least Blaine was a tolerable neighbour despite his incessant friendliness.


	7. Chapter 6: Music

_**"By means of water, we give life to everything." - Koran, 21:30**_

It was Christmas morning and Kurt and his daughter were already sitting on the couch waiting for everyone else to come downstairs so they could open presents. A beautiful tree sat in front of the window, decorated with lights, tinsel, and ornaments all in blue and silver. The little girl was squirming in excited anticipation and Kurt had to hold onto her tightly to keep her in place. He couldn't hold her forever though, and as soon as Grandpa Burt made an appearance in the doorway she freed herself from Kurt's arms with a giddy squeal and toddled to Burt who, not missing a beat, leaned down to scoop her up into his arms and spin her around with a happy laugh. This was already the best Christmas ever and they hadn't even opened their gifts or had dinner yet.

At least, that's how Christmas was in Kurt's dream the night before. A dream he couldn't seem to shake off or forget throughout the day. The image of his dad and a child of his own all in the same room made his heart flutter all day long, and he wasn't sure why. It didn't feel good, but it didn't feel bad either. It was just… there. A persevering image and feeling that that was the way things should look and be.

But instead Kurt was resigned to spending the day following a flock of grouse, picking off the ones he identified as older males after watching them for awhile. He wanted to ensure this particular group was able to reproduce despite his current hunt so he could track them again one day.

Then in the evening he patrolled the perimeter of the town as a guard, bow always at the ready despite the fact that he had never had to free his arrows before when he was guarding. He told himself that letting himself get comfortable and worry free was the way to invite trouble, so he was always on the ready.

By the time he returned home, it was well into the middle of the night and he would only get a few hours of sleep before morning. No one expected him to be awake with the dawn, however, he needed to make the most of the autumn hunting before the winter set in and limited his ability to leave his hut.

Kurt expected to be able to curl up and just nod off when he did crawl into his bed, lulled to sleep by the crackle of his fire and the muted snores of his new neighbour, but instead the crackling of the fire was accompanied by humming. He listened for awhile, and could piece together that Blaine was humming a song next door. He didn't know the tune, but it was evident that Blaine was awake enough to be doing it consciously. The new lullaby put Kurt to sleep easily and, in what had to be a first, he returned to his dream of the night before, watching his daughter and dad open their presents with unmitigated glee.

"Kurt."

It was his dad speaking to him, but not in his voice. Kurt looked over at the man in confusion, wondering why his voice had changed.

"Kurt."

Maybe he had forgotten what his dad's voice really sounded like. It had been eight years after all…

"Kurt."

No. It was because it was a dream.

Kurt's eyes slitted apart and focuses slowly on the source of the voice - Blaine. He bolted up into a sitting position and glared over at the intruder who stood so calmly in his little home, waking him up.

"What are you doing in here?"

Blaine's shoulders twisted as he shifted in place, "You were… ah… making noises in your sleep…"

Really, Kurt thought to himself, Blaine was complaining that he was making noise in his sleep and for the past week Kurt had accepted the breathy snores being broadcast next door?

"... crying."

Kurt flinched at that. He drew a hand up to his face and felt the wetness around his eyes. He certainly didn't remember crying, and the dream he had been experiencing… had he been crying in it? It was already fading from clarity in his mind.

"Are you alright?"

Kurt let his hand drop back to his side and looked back up towards the man hovering beside the door. Blaine was looking much better rested these days, but despite that, he currently looked like he hadn't sleep with bloodshot eyes and fresh dark circles hugging the underside of his eyes.

"I could ask you the same."

Blaine shrugged a little. "Just… it's just been hitting home that I'm really away from everything."

Kurt snorted. Of all the things to worry about. "Is that why you were humming lullabies to yourself?"

"Humming….?" Blaine looked confused for just a moment and then made an o with his lips, "Right. Yes. Just was trying to soothe myself to sleep."

"Well do me a favour and go back to worrying about your sleep and leave me to mine." Kurt grunted and laid back down, pulling the pelt right up around his neck.

He didn't look to see Blaine go, but heard the quiet "Good night" and the creak of the door as it was opened and closed when Blaine left. Moments later the humming picked up and Kurt listened to the lyricless song until he fell asleep again.

Back to Christmas. Back to helping his little girl open her many presents he had spoiled her with until a warm hand settled on his back and a loving voice, his husband's, commented on how lucky they all were. Kurt nodded easily and turned to look up into the eyes of his love.

Sweet, honey eyes.

That was all it took to wake Kurt for a second time, though mercifully, this time the sun was streaming in through cracks of the hut to let him know he was allowed to be awake and not have to suffer through more weird dreams.

As always, he washed and shaved himself with the last of his previous day's water rations and then went into town to get his fresh ration and breakfast, which he took with him as he went to check on the generators dutifully before patrolling the town until midday.

It was on one of his last rounds around the town that Blaine caught up with him.

"How are you doing?"

Without glancing towards the other man, lest Kurt catch sight of the same eyes that had woken him up in his dreams, he responded, though kept his pace up and his bow still readied.

"I'm fine. I was fine last night too. There was no need for you to barge in."

"Sorry… I just… you sounded like you were being hurt. I wanted to make sure everything was alright."

"It was."

"Okay… hey?"

"What?"

"Why don't you ever sit down for breakfast or lunch or supper? I always look for you in the kitchen when everyone else is sitting down to eat but you never come. I assume you must eat since it doesn't seem like you're starving -"

"That a fat joke Blaine?"

"What?! Oh. No. I mean…"

Kurt smirked to himself. He had managed to catch Blaine off guard with that playful quip, and something about his worried response amused Kurt to no end.

"It was a joke Blaine. Don't piss yourself over it."

That seemed to relieve Blaine as he let out a breath and pulled himself back together as Kurt explained.

"I don't like to eat with everyone else. I grab my food to go."

"Why not? I mean… why don't you want to be with everyone else?"

That stilled Kurt. He stopped in place and Blaine stopped with him. As he spoke, his heart felt like old wounds were cracking open.

"It's not so much that I don't want to be with everyone else… it's that everyone else doesn't want to be with me."

As he said it, Kurt's eyes caught with those amber eyes that haunted him in his sleep the night before, watching them flit slightly as Blaine tried to process his words with his brow furrowing and lips pursing as he tried to comprehend Kurt.

"I don't understand."

Managing to pry himself loose of the hold of honey eyes, Kurt sighed and turned away, continuing his patrol with Blaine hot on his heels. "I don't expect you to."

"You could eat with me."

"That's alright. Eat with your friends."

"But… you're one of my friends."

The statement irked Kurt, though he tried to maintain his pace and let it seem like it hadn't affected him at all as he kept his patrol up. Blaine was clearly an idiot or had a really odd sense of what a friend was.

"I'm not a friend Blaine. I live in the same community as you and you've imposed being your neighbour on me."

Silence for a moment, and Kurt dared not look back because he didn't want to see if the rejection had hurt Blaine, or worse, that it didn't affect him at all.

"You could still eat with me. It's got to be better than being alone all the time."

His grip around his bow tightened. Why, why, WHY, was everyone so concerned with his want to be alone and mistaking it for loneliness? He chose to be alone, not the other way around, so why was it anyone's business but his own?

"I'm fine Blaine."

More silence, then Blaine's voice, quieted now, spoke again.

"Alright."

Kurt didn't understand why Blaine didn't leave him then, but instead his footsteps were echoed by Blaine's for the last two rounds of his patrol until he saw Noah step out and nod toward him as his relief. Relaxing his bow and tucking his arrow back into his pouch, he started walking towards his home, and even then, Blaine followed.

"Why are you so insistent on hanging out with me?"

Blaine had to walk quickly to keep up with Kurt, who, after years of practice, was adept at walking fast and had longer legs than Blaine to do so with.

"Why are you so insistent on getting rid of me?"

"I'm not. I just don't understand why you're wasting your time with me instead of Trent or someone more… accommodating."

"Trent's told me to back off a bit, especially since they have that new medic in training there…."

Kitty. They had selected Kitty as their new medic to train.

"... and he's got a crush on her something fierce. Even if he hadn't told me to give him space when she's there, I would have had to back off anyhow because all he does is gush about her and it's exhausting to listen to."

Kurt let out a little snort - his best sound for a laugh these days. "I can imagine."

"Anyhow, I don't think you're as grumpy as you let on."

"Oh really?"

"No. You're not."

Kurt rolled his eyes, out of view of Blaine.

"Blaine, with all due respect, you have no idea what I am and no plausible reason to care."

"Is there a reason I shouldn't care?"

At that, Kurt spun on his heels, causing Blaine to stop short in his tracks as he saw the chestnut haired man lock eyes with him.

"Why are you pushing this? Don't you get it? I'm not in the market for friends, especially ones limited to spending a season here."

Blaine's hands lifted up, palms out, in surrender, "Sorry! I just… I just care okay? In general. About everyone."

With a huff, Kurt turned and continued his trek to his home. "Well you shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because we live in a world where people die too easily. If it's not The Others, then it's the struggle for food or resources, or just sicknesses we didn't worry about ten years ago."

"Isn't that more of a reason to care?"

Kurt glanced down at his feet as he walked. He needed new boots. Another thing on his mental checklist to take care of.

Not receiving an answer, Blaine kept talking. "I get that the world is different from the one we grew up in and the world we expected we'd become adults in… but it's not that bad either. It's how you respond to things that make the difference. We couldn't control The Tides, but we can control how we react to them."

"And how do you react to them oh wise one?" Kurt spat back with all too much sass in his tone.

"I try to be happy… I try to help others… I try to make my time here mean something."

"How very cliche for someone who's a member of a group that didn't want to seem cliche by calling themselves the Wolf pack."

Blaine chuckled at that. "I suppose… but I honestly can't imagine just shutting everyone out like you seem to."

"My business is my own Blaine. Why can't you leave it at that?"

As they reached their homes, Blaine stopped and looked to Kurt as he moved to go inside his home.

"Who died?"

"What?" Kurt stopped and looked back, wide eyed, at Blaine.

"You said that people die too easily…. who was it that died for you?"

Kurt glanced down at the ground. Even eight years later he still could feel the sadness welling up within him as he thought of his dad, laying there on the ground, while everyone around them was powerless to help him.

"My dad."

"I'm sorry."

Kurt shrugged a little, keeping his eyes locked with the dirt below his feet. "It was eight years ago…. and everyone here has lost people."

"Doesn't make it hurt less…"

Damn. How true that was, and because everyone had lost family and friends in The Tides, no one truly grieved. There wasn't time for it and it didn't make anyone feel more or less special because it was just the fact of this life they all led.

"Do you like music?"

Kurt's head snapped up as Blaine posed the question, looking at him with a crooked eyebrow. How did he go from talking about death to music.

"I… I suppose… but I don't play anything. Some of the people in the community play instruments if you want to - "

"I asked if you like it."

Kurt just nodded then, continuing to appraise Blaine critically as the curly haired man gestured with a finger for him to follow him into his hut, and because Kurt didn't know how else he could respond, he complied and followed.

Blaine had dressed the place up much more nicely than Kurt had his own home set up. There was even a picture, hand drawn and rather crude, of a tree pinned up on the wall across from the door. At some point Blaine must have dragged a real mattress from the community in and covered it with a couple blankets that definitely wouldn't be sufficient for when the snow came. His cargo bins and backpacks were neatly lined against the wall opposite his bed, opened and sorted.

When they entered, Kurt hung in the doorway, watching as Blaine walked deliberately to one of the backpacks and pulled out a familiar looking pouch, pulling from it one of the old cell phones that Kurt had rifled through on Blaine's first night in town. He pressed a button, and then a few more, before holding it out to Kurt, who could just hear the faintest of sounds as it got closer to him.

"How…? The battery…"

"I have a couple little solar power recharging things I found a few years ago… they take forever to charge on them, but it lets me have music - depending on what the owners of the phones liked."

Kurt held the phone to his ear, and gasped softly as he could hear a melodic voice coming through, accented by instruments synthesized to play along with the voice. It was beautiful and even though Kurt didn't know the song or the artist, the sense of nostalgia he felt was overpowering. This was what he loved to do when he was at home. Whether he was laying on the floor in his parents room, smelling his mother's old perfume from her old drawers, or simply doing his homework, he always had music playing. Hearing it now reminded him of how empty his ears felt all the time.

"The guys think I'm crazy for wasting space in my pack with them… but nothing really means quite as much to me as the music on them…" Blaine said quietly as he watched Kurt's reaction to the song playing. "... I've got all the phones set up to extend battery life so I can listen as long as possible without having to recharge… which is a huge pain."

Kurt's eyes closed as he kept the phone to his head, appreciating the mournful voice of the man singing. This particular singer had a powerful voice that was almost ethereal, especially set against the instruments that Kurt was desperately trying to identify. At least two guitars… a piano… drums… it seemed like there might be more than that but Kurt was woefully out of practice when it came to identifying the ingredients of music.

"You can borrow it… until the battery dies… if you like."

Kurt's eyes cracked open and he nodded to Blaine, backing out the door and walking towards his own home just a few paces away and all the while keeping the phone to his ear. It didn't phase him that he had just accepted something of a gift from the man he had just earlier said he was not friends with. Everything about the music was calming every part of him, and like a drug, he was not about to give it up for anything now that he had it.

That was how the rest of Kurt's night went. He laid back in his bed, eyes shut, and just let the music permeate his brain, even when it started repeating the same songs he had heard earlier. He understood Blaine's humming now, because once he got the gist of a song, he too began to hum along with it, hearing the voice within him that he hadn't let out in years.

And though he didn't mean to, it was how he fell asleep, with music cascading through any and all dreams he had. He had been starving for song and he didn't even know it. His body was eating it up, twitching in sync with the beat and fingers rapping on his stomach as the same tunes embraced him when he awoke in the morning.

He even stayed in bed, for the first time in how long, he didn't even know. It wasn't until a little light flickered on the phone and the music died out abruptly that he got up and began going about his usual routine, with the addition of sneaking into Blaine's empty home and setting the used phone down on his bed to return it.

His ears instantly ached for more.

"You alright Hummel?"

Karofsky's voice broke him out of a reverie and as he looked over at the big oaf, who despite years of improving his fitness levels still looked chunky. Karofsky's face was lined with bunches where his brow and lips had come together.

"You were singing to yourself…"

Kurt hadn't even realized he had been doing it, but he could understand why it would strike Karofsky as odd. In all these years, despite having instruments and dances, Kurt hadn't sang since his father had died. Not even so much as a hum.

He choose to shrug it off. If he didn't make a big deal of it, then Karofsky couldn't make it seem like a big deal.

"So?"

"So you never do that."

Kurt perked up an eyebrow, "And since when do you stalk me to know what I do all the time?"

Karofsky swallowed in a show of discomfort and shook his head, "I don't. Geeze. Nevermind."

Karofsky may have come out of his closet, but he still distanced himself from what he thought appear to be gay. Kurt smirked to himself as the much larger man left him alone again, on his patrol, and able to recount the lyrics of one of the songs once more.

"I take it you liked that particular album since you drained the battery overnight." Blaine said by way of a greeting when Kurt walked himself into Blaine's hut without introduction.

"I'll hunt for you… in exchange for time with them."

Blaine lifted an eyebrow, setting down the book he had been reading on the side of his mattress on the bed. The cover was well worn, but Kurt could make the title out as Patience and Sarah.

"Kurt… you don't have to trade me for - "

"No. I do. Otherwise it's a gift."

Blaine worried his lower lip in between his teeth as he regarded Kurt quietly for a moment while Kurt impatiently stepped in place. He wanted… no, he NEEDED more music.

"Okay."

Blaine slipped out of his bed and crept to the bag with his phone collection, pulling a few out and looking them over thoughtfully before placing all but one back in the bag and pressing a few buttons on his choice.

"If you liked that last one, you should like this one too."

Kurt took it eagerly and placed it to his ear. With a sigh of relief he let the powerful voice of a woman fill his head and nodded to Blaine as he left. Again that night he curled up with the phone and let the music seep into his bones.

Two weeks this went on, with Kurt bringing Blaine small kills each day and teaching him how to cut and prepare the meat so he had his own food source. He went so far as to take the pelts off some of the rabbits he had trapped for Blaine and stitched them into mittens for him. All for the privilege of having music in his life again.

There were some artists he quickly grew to love, and others he loathed - though listened to anyhow. Blaine showed him how he charged the phones - each day leaving a couple charging with the small solar panels pointed to the heavens to absorb the little daylight they were getting - and less each and every day for that matter as winter drew closer.

"Do you think maybe Matthew Bellamy was a little prophetic with that album?" Blaine asked of Kurt one evening as they worked together to chop firewood, a phone playing on a stump between them.

"Why?" Kurt asked before heaving his axe downward to split a piece of wood evenly into two. "Because he's singing about an unjustifiable war after talking about corrupt governments?"

Blaine shrugged, picking up a stack of cut logs and piling them up alongside his shack. "There's a lot of lyrics about new world orders and missing those you love and -"

"That's true of most songs Blaine. It sells."

"New world order songs sell?"

"No. Love."

"Ah." Blaine said with a grin criss-crossing his features and Kurt peeked up at him from where he was readying another log to be sliced.

"Ah what? You've got a shit eating grin on your face."

"I don't know. It just strikes me as rather amusing that you, Mr. Frigid, would think that love sells."

Kurt clucked his tongue up against the top of his mouth to make a tsking noise as he chopped the log while Blaine watched on. "Prostitution is the world's oldest occupation. I don't need to be in the business of it though to know it'll always have a market."

"Touche." Blaine carefully darted around Kurt, picking up the pieces of timber he had cut to pile up in his stack so Kurt could continue his chopping without having to move. "Even out here though, in the utopia of this new world, is there prostitution?"

Kurt snickered a little at the question and nodded once, "Let's just say I've been approached a couple times by ladies looking to trade time in bed for meat."

He didn't miss it when Blaine's nose wrinkled up in that way that he had learned meant Blaine was thinking about something disdainful.

"No. I didn't take them up on the offer."

That seemed to relieve Blaine, though Kurt wasn't quite sure why. Since spending more time together, Blaine had told him about how some of the Warbler's had a woman in each of the communities they visited and with his sunny disposition and a body like Blaine's, Kurt was sure he could get his choice of women. Maybe Blaine was just more of a god fearing man than he let on.

"So what's on the playlist for tonight than Kurt? Muse? Adele? Micheal Jackson?"

Kurt set his axe pointy side down on the stump and propped his head up on the end of the shaft, buffered by his hands holding the axe in place. "Hmm…" He couldn't really go wrong any which way - so long as it wasn't the screamo stuff he had tried to sleep to one night. That was a one time listen only.

Thoughts were interrupted though by a call from across the field and a figure running towards them. Kurt squinted to try and make out who it was, but he recognized the voice before he recognized the face. Brittany.

"Guys! Beth! In a tree!" She huffed as she got closer to them, setting her hands on her knees as she puffed and caught her breath. Brittany was typically in good shape, but somehow, and Kurt didn't want to know how, she was in her second trimester of pregnancy with what Santana was calling their baby. Short of magic, there was no way only Santana and Brittany were involved in making that baby.

Blaine was quick to reach over and help Brittany support herself before she lifted her head and expounded on her quick comments from before. "Beth climbed up a tree. Quinn's gone hunting and Noah's off on a scavenging mission. It's so tall. We can't get her down and the kids are saying she's been up there for hours on a dare."

"Oh for…." Kurt swore under his breath, lifted his axe, and slammed it into the stump to let it stay there. "Take me there Brit."

She led them both there, to a spruce which had aptly been nicknamed the Giant Tree. The children of school age were encircled around the tree, looking upwards along with Rachel and Finn who were calling up to Beth's small, huddled form near the highest branches of the tree.

"Why hasn't anyone climbed up there?" Kurt demanded as he came up to the other adults.

"Finn tried but he's too big and can't slip through the spaces in the branches and I kept losing my grip…"

Kurt sighed and looked up the tree. He'd have to come up with some kind of plan to get her down, and quickly. Even from so far away he could see she was shivering and crying despite her classmates words of encouragement being called up to her.

"Okay… first of all, someone go get the medic on duty. Brit said she's been up there for… hours?" He looked to Rachel who nodded apologetically and tried to explain but Kurt cut her off before she had the chance to, "So she's probably cold and getting sick, if she's not sick already. Now we're going to have to get some saw's and trim the pine off the branches as we climb up otherwise we won't fit and we'll get all cut up and -"

"Look! Ear necklace guy is going up!" One of the children called out. Kurt snapped his head around and followed the pointing fingers of several of the children to where Blaine was already hugging himself around the trunk of the tree and shimmying through the pine needles to work his way upwards.

"Someone just go get the medic…" Kurt muttered and without direction, Finn ran off to comply while Kurt kept his gaze set on Blaine as he worked his way up the tree.

With Blaine's ascension, everyone held their breath and just watched until he made it up to where Beth was. They could see that words were exchanged between the two before Beth crawled towards Blaine and climbed onto his back where she locked her arms around his neck as he slowly moved back down the tree.

Mike ran up, alongside Finn, when Blaine reached the bottom to a chorus of cheering from the schoolchildren who then had to be pushed back by Rachel so Mike could have some space to check her over as Blaine carefully settled her on the ground in front of him. The curly haired man was all scratched up, courtesy of the spruce needles and bark of the tree, but otherwise looked no worse for wear. Beth on the other hand was pale and shivering, still sobbing, and also cut and scraped all over the place.

"Now explain to me… why the hell she was alone in a tree for hours." Kurt snarled towards Rachel.

"Quinn said she was staying home sick today… she had.. or has a flu or something… Quinn had to leave to hunt for a bit while Beth was napping and, according to the kids, Beth got up and decided to go play with the other kids and was dared to go up the tree…. and then they went back to class when she made it to the top. Afterschool one of them came here and saw she was still up there…"

"You really need to start teaching these kids about not being idiots." Kurt muttered back.

Rachel didn't bother with a reply to the statement, instead hovering over Mike to see how Beth was doing. Finn was trying, and failing at, sending the other children home - at least until Brittany promised them all some cake and led them off to the kitchen.

"Geeze… I'm going to pulling those needles out of all corners of me for days…" Blaine muttered, causing Kurt to look over and see that he was indeed plucking spruce needles out of his coat and pants, which had him resembling a porcupine with how many of them were hanging onto him.

"You need to come to the clinic Miss Beth." Mike said, setting down the stethoscope he had been using to check her lungs. Without prompting Blaine stepped over and scooped the girl up into his arms, letting Mike lead the way back to the town and to the clinic. The whole time Beth cried into Blaine's shoulder, calling out for her mommy and daddy.

Kurt followed, but kept his distance. Rachel announced she would see if there was any progress in finding Quinn and left them. When Beth had been bundled in blankets on a bed and Mike continued to check her vital signs to determine the next steps for treatment, Blaine stepped over to Kurt.

"Why did they come to you for help?"

Kurt thought of making a snarky remark back, questioning what Blaine thought of his capabilities in rescue, but decided against it. Blaine had just saved the girl after all and even carried her sick little body back here without question.

"I used to babysit Beth quite a bit when she was younger and Noah and Quinn both had to work… for whatever reason she attached herself to me. Must have been my pleasant disposition." He added in that last statement, coated in pure sarcasm, because he knew that Noah and Quinn would have rather Beth attached herself to one of their own close friends. It had been fluke that she had stopped her colicy crying when Kurt had held her one evening, and had always been calm for him when she was for no one else. He didn't understand it any better than they had, but they had certainly utilized that secret power of his as she grew up.

"I didn't take you for the kid type." Blaine said, continuing to try and rid himself of spruce needles one by one.

"I'm not."

"Clearly you are." Blaine retorted, playfully flicking a needle at Kurt who wrinkled up his nose disdainfully.

Mike came out of Beth's room then and both Kurt and Blaine looked attentively towards him.

"She's got a mild case of hypothermia, and is sick with someone, but I won't be able to tell until I get her temperature back up. Kitty is getting her undressed now to put in the bath. You mind going to get her some warmed milk and other hot foods to help her out?"

"On it!" Blaine stated and immediately rushed out before Kurt even had a chance to open his mouth, earning a chuckle from Mike.

"Hero of the day that one."

Kurt snorted and rolled his eyes. "Right."

"Might be competition for you for Beth's affections." Mike continued to tease.

"He can have her."

"You don't mean that…"

Kurt huffed and sat himself down on the bench in the makeshift lobby. "I do. I'm not a kid person. Hell. I'm not even an adult person."

"Only because you choose not to let people in…."

"Don't start your psychobabble bullshit on me Mike. Take care of Beth. She's the one who needs attention."

Mike let out a short, sad sigh and nodded, returning to Beth's room. For awhile, Kurt sat there, in silence, wondering why in hell he was still even there since Beth was being taken care of and he wanted to avoid catching whatever she was sick with.

"Kurt…"

He looked up then, seeing Trent in the doorway of his room, using crutches and the doorframe to keep himself upright.

"Well look at you…."

Trent smiled weakly. It had clearly been an effort to hobble over to the door he was in and he was puffing in exhaustion.

"Yah. Look at me. Regular Olympic champion."

"You're probably better than expected…"

"Only because I have the right motivation."

"Kitty?" Kurt said with a smirk.

A blush rose in Trent's cheeks and he just made a small nod before heaving himself over to sit by Kurt, each movement deliberate and requiring him to take in a deep breath.

"I wanted to thank you though."

Kurt arched an eyebrow, "You already did - and I told you, any one of us could have picked up that call."

Trent shook his head, "No. I wanted to thank you for letting Blaine occupy space by you. He told me you weren't exactly keen on the idea and now he has someone else besides me to hang out with…"

"I would hardly qualify me as someone Blaine hangs out with." Kurt grumbled, turning his head away from looking at Trent's bad leg. It was covered with a baggy pant leg, but still obviously warped out of position and Trent was focused on moving it so it was stretched out at a better angle while he sat.

"Still. He's our social butterfly and he's always had a circle of people to talk and interact with, so it means a lot for him to have someone else to talk to here. A lot of people have been really cold to him since they found our ear chains."

"In their defense, they've never seen one before and it is just… insanely weird."

"You seem alright with it though."

Kurt shrugged. He hadn't really thought about it to be honest. "I only have myself to worry about. If I had kids or a pair or something I might be worried about protecting them and what that ear chain really meant about the owner."

"Blaine's a good guy. He wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Yes he has a necklace of Other's ears."

"You have to in order to trade with renegades…."

"So I've been told."

The conversation stopped there as Blaine came back in, holding a tray with a mug of something steaming and a piece of flat bread with stew spreading out over top of it. "Dinner is ready for the little princess."

"Come right in!" Mike bellowed from the room he was in, and Blaine bustled past Trent and Kurt with a smile and nod in their direction as he went to serve up the meal.

"He's a regular boy scout." Kurt grumbled.

For whatever reason, that made Trent chuckle, and they were quiet again until Blaine left the room, empty handed now.

"They've got her in the tub and she seems to be a bit better. Not crying anymore anyhow." Blaine said as he stood before them.

"Good. Back to work then." Kurt said with a grunt as he stood up and placed his hands at the small of his back to stretch it out. At some point he had become sore there, no doubt due to the lackluster support the benches in the clinic offered.

"You're just going to go and leave her?" Blaine asked of Kurt then, looking completely agast.

"I can't do anything more for her that they won't. I imagine Quinn showing up is just a matter of time now, and I have a patrol to get to. Plus she's sick. I am not getting myself sick."

Trent and Blaine exchanged looks, which Kurt ignored as he walked out and returned to the shack to collect his bow and arrows before starting on his patrol for the evening. As he walked back into town, he heard Quinn shrieking from within the clinic, demanding to know how Beth was to whichever unfortunate individual was in there with her. He had half a mind to go in there and demand to know why she had left Beth when the kid was sick, but no doubt part of her freak out was due to the guilt she must have been experiencing then since she had made that mistake.

At least, he knew he'd be feeling terribly guilty had he done the same.

Word spread quickly in the little community and Kurt was asked several times if it was true that Blaine had ascended the tree to save Beth. Of course he had to admit that Blaine had done exactly that, though he thought he was getting entirely too much credit. Had Kurt had a little more time he would have been the one being spoken about.

But then, Kurt wasn't terribly impetuous to begin with.

He was on patrol on the streets when he saw Blaine being chatted up by a couple younger women who were giggling and clearly, even from down the street, flirting with Blaine who seemed to take it all in stride with that face consuming grin of his. Oh well. Better Blaine had saved Beth then because such gestures from young women would have been wasted on Kurt.

It didn't stop Blaine from waving towards Kurt though when he passed, and Kurt nodded to him in return, getting a look of irritation from the girls as they were the cause of their interruption with the communities newest, and now most popular, member. Blaine surely wouldn't have a hard time finding people to talk and eat with now and Kurt could bet that he'd be forgotten soon enough.

At least he wouldn't have to tiptoe when he went to take a piss in the middle of the night anymore.

Blaine was home however when Kurt got off shift, and leaned back against the side of Kurt's hut, which looked like it could barely hold his weight up. He half expected it to fall under the slight pressure from Blaine.

"No hot date tonight?" Kurt mused as he got close enough to his shack.

Blaine laughed at that and shook his head, holding out a phone to Kurt who slung his bow over his shoulder so he could take it in his hand, recognizing this phone for the music within it. "Pop mix tonight hmm?"

"Beth's good by the way." Blaine said as he stood upright and removed his weight from the shanty. "Mike's keeping her overnight for observation but they got her temperature back up and her flu should just run its course over the next couple days."

Kurt nodded, closing his fingers around the phone as he drew his arm to his side. He knew it wasn't Blaine's intention, but hearing the update from Blaine instead of waiting to find out for himself made him flood with guilt. He should have stayed and waited for an update from Mike.

"Hey…" Blaine's hand found it's way to Kurt's shoulder. He immediately tensed up under the unfamiliar touch and looked in panic at the hand on him. Blaine removed it right away, seeing the change in Kurt.

"... sorry. Anyhow. She's fine. Don't worry."

Kurt nodded to him, letting the relief seep in as well as relaxing once Blaine's hand was off him. He was rarely touched, and then only if he knew it was coming - like a physical examination or a hug from Brittany or Beth.

"You should visit her tomorrow though. She asked for you."

Kurt looked up then, scanning Blaine's eyes for sincerity, "She did?"

Blaine nodded, "Yes… she said you tell her the best stories to help her get to sleep."

That made Kurt chuckle involuntarily. "It's been well over a year since I watched her last… almost two years actually. I can't believe she remembers that."

"She's a sweet kid. Did a stupid thing, but sweet nonetheless. Man is her mom upset though."

"Quinn? Yah. I heard her screaming in the clinic earlier. Probably just…"

"Guilt." Blaine finished off for Kurt. They nodded together, understanding in tandem.

"Anyhow. Have a good night Kurt." Blaine said softly before heading into his own home.

With the music, and the knowledge that the little girl that wasn't really his was okay, he was able to sleep, even when honey eyes permeated his dreams once again.


	8. Chapter 7: Sick

_**"When the well is dry, we learn the worth of water." - Benjamin Franklin**_

Winter came overnight in a flurry of snow and fast winds. Kurt had to tie his door back to stop it from slamming open and shut, yelling through the cracks in his walls for Blaine to do the same. When morning came, Kurt no longer could walk on the ground outside without it crunching underfoot. His breaths came out in misty puffs that hung around his face and tickled under his nose.

He did go to visit Beth at the clinic, who insisted that he tell her a story like he used to - about things that used to happen before the Tides. Most of Kurt's stories were stolen plots from the movies he used to love, but he managed to tie in so much detail that Beth hung onto every word. Her fever had gone down overnight, and even though Mike said she was past the worst of things, Kurt still sat across the room while telling her the story. He was not getting sick no matter how much she batted her eyelashes at him.

He had a midday shift which had him patrolling through the town. With the sudden onslaught of snow, most people were scrambling to get winter wear out or trade for new winter items so the trading hub was quite busy. Kurt expected that Blaine might try to trade some of the rabbit and gophers that Kurt had caught for him in exchange for music time, but he must have been somewhere else because on each round through, Kurt couldn't find Blaine's face among those vying for new mitts and boots and hats.

Because he went on so many scavenging trips, Kurt already had winter gear, although most of it needed mending to some degree. He didn't worry about trading though for what needed fixing because he was one of the few people who was willing to go scavenging in the winter and could find what he needed on one of those trips.

It was as he was finishing up his shift and walking past the clinic that he saw Quinn holding Beth by the hand and walking out, blankets wrapped around both their shoulders as pseudo coats. Quinn quirked a finger at Kurt and he walked over to her.

"Glad to see she's out."

Quinn nodded in agreement. "Trent asked if you'd stop by."

Kurt thanked her for letting him know and walking into the clinic, greeting Carole on the way and then walking back into Trent's room where he was cozied up in the bed there.

"Hey Kurt."

"Hey Trent. What's up?"

Trent didn't waste time. "I haven't seen Blaine today. I was wondering if you have and he's just busy with something. It's not like him not to visit me to the point of my needing to boot him out… proverbially speaking of course."

Kurt slowly shook his head, and had to agree. Blaine visited Trent for long hours, almost all the time. Lacking a job or any other real purpose around here other than caring for Trent had allowed him to keep his own hours, and most of those were kept at the clinic.

"I'll check his hut."

Trent thanked Kurt and asked to let him know if he found anything out before Kurt left and headed straight home.

He didn't need to enter Blaine's hut to know where Blaine was. A succession of hard coughs could be heard as Kurt approached the hut such that Kurt opted against opening the door to peer inside.

"You okay Blaine?"

From within Blaine made a groan and nothing else. Kurt hovered on the other side of the door for a minute, juggling the thought around of going inside before turning around and go straight back to the clinic. He let Trent know and within a half hour was back outside Blaine's hut while Carole tended to him inside.

When she emerged she nodded towards Kurt, "Looks like he has what Beth was getting over. He'll need lots of rest and fluids."

"Okay. I'll show Kitty where to go when it's her turn on shift -"

"Oh no sweetie. We have three people in the last stages of cancer and two babies that are overdue. This cold snap has brought a few people in already with mild frostbite and he's hardly the only one with the flu. You need to take care of him since you're all the way out here."

Kurt's jaw fell and his eyes bulged as he looked at Carole. No. There was no way.

She dug around in her purse and held out a small bottle and a blue little tub to him. "Fever reducer and some mentholated rub for his chest and back to help with the coughing."

"No Carole… no… he's sick. I can't. I'll get sick." Kurt shook his head.

The corner of her mouth quirked up in a half smile as she looked over Kurt and then reached into her bag, pulling out a face mask to hold out with the rest of the offerings. "There. No worries."

Again he looked at her with clear disbelief in his eyes and face. She had to be joking. He was not nursing that man in there. Not a chance. He couldn't risk getting ill.

But she pushed the items into his hands regardless and made off before he could argue it any further. He looked down at the things in his hands and shuddered at the thought of going into what was now a den of illness with Blaine hacking away in there.

However, it's not like she left him with a choice.

He took the things to his hut first and dropped them on the bed while he boiled some water over the coals of his firepit and then mixed it with some local flora to make a tea which he let sit while he suited up. The face mask was put on, a toque over his ears and forehead, and an extra jacket over top. Two layers of gloves - just in case, and ear muffs, because who knew how strong that virus was.

When he was geared up, he made his way to Blaine's, medicine in his pocket and a mug of tea in his hands. He planned to donate the mug to Blaine after this because there was no way he was going to use it again. It had started snowing again this evening, the wind whipping the snowflakes around like tiny daggers which got caught in his eyelashes on the brief walk over. Blaine couldn't have picked a more inconvenient time of year to get ill.

Blaine was bundled under his too thin blankets when Kurt made his way in, murmuring to himself as he snuggled a phone that was playing a tune too faint for Kurt to hear unless he got closer - which he didn't plan on doing. He tried calling out to Blaine to announce his arrival but all that served to do was cause Blaine to cough again and again and again while Kurt kept his back against the wall opposite to Blaine, holding the tea in his hands and wondering how Mike and Kitty were choosing to deal with this kind of stuff on a regular basis.

Eventually though, Kurt talked himself into getting closer to Blaine until he was right at his bedside. With one gloved hand he gently nudged Blaine's side.

"Hey. Blaine. I have tea."

Blaine was pale, which said quite a bit given how tan his natural colouring was. His curly hair was matted in sweaty clumps to his forehead and he kept sniffing for air as if his oxygen was limited. When his side was nudged, his eyelashes fluttered over the dark circles where his eyes were sunken before slitting apart and looking at Kurt curiously.

"'m sick…."

"Yes. I got that." Kurt hummed as he set the tea down on the floor beside him and reached into his pocket to get out the mentholated rub. May as well get it out of the way.

As he was unscrewing the lid though, Blaine began to cough again, though this time it sounded like his cough was coming from his stomach - so deep and so consuming that Blaine was rolling over towards Kurt until he realized too late what that sound meant.

With a loud retch, Kurt was sprayed such that he froze in place and shuddered in mortification. Blaine had vomited all over him and beyond before letting his head fall over the edge of the bed where he continued to puke residual bile there, though it seemed that Kurt had gotten the worst of it.

Kurt only let himself remain solid for a moment though as two things became clear quickly. One was that the vomit was seeping through his clothing quickly and already kissing the skin underneath, and the other was that the smell of the puke was affecting his own gag reflex. Forgetting Blaine for the moment, he rushed back out of the hut and started shucking his clothing off in what had to be a record for undressing in rapid time. He didn't care if anyone was around to see him, not that anyone was, all he cared about was getting those illness drenched clothes off him. He knew instantly that he wasn't even going to bother washing them and they were going to be burned as soon as he could. For now though, he just needed to get himself clean.

With the wind biting all his exposed skin, he ran into his own shanty and put the last of his daily water ration on to boil while he rubbed dry soap all over himself, washing it off with scaldingly hot water once it was ready. Kurt redressed himself, noting now that he definitely needed new winter gear and would be on the next scavenging mission whether he liked it or not, and then headed back for Blaine's.

The smell inside was overpowering, and Kurt kept his hand over his mouth and nose to block it out so he wouldn't be forced to add to it. Blaine was where he had left him, though was no longer hurling. The effort seemed to have exhausted him though and one hand and his head hung off the side of the bed where he had collapsed.

"Fuck…"

Short of a disinfectant miracle occurring, Kurt knew he couldn't leave Blaine in here. It was disgusting and reeked. Somehow he'd have to get Blaine out and over to his own place and have to risk more vomit there. He could have left him, but that voice of his dad in the back of his head was reminding him that no one ever left his mother when she was sick, and so he shouldn't do the same to anyone else - no matter how gross it was.

Deciding this outfit would also have to be a write off, Kurt stepped carefully over to the bed, mindful of not stepping in any of the puddles around Blaine. He pushed Blaine back gently so he was again laying on his back. It didn't take any effort. Blaine was exceedingly pliant and totally unresponsive.

Then came the part that Kurt wasn't as sure about. He slipped a hand under Blaine's back and another under his knees and lifted, surprised to find out that he could lift the other man who only made a small whimper to suggest he was still alive.

This was how Kurt carried Blaine out of the hut and laid him down outside. Blaine's own clothing was removed piece by piece and added to the pile of Kurt's rejected clothes until Blaine too was shivering in the cold, completely nude, before Kurt once again picked him up and this time brought him into his own hut.

After Blaine had been laid down, Kurt went back outside to gather snow to melt and boil so he could wash Blaine down as well, which was done as quickly as he could manage. The fact that Blaine's sleeping body was reacting to Kurt's innocent touches did not help Kurt's focus, and his mind kept blaring an alarm to the tune of 'This is the first time you've ever gotten to touch a naked man!'. Between the disgust of having to deal with vomit, and the bashfulness he felt about his first touching of another man being due to said vomit, Kurt didn't want to dwell too much on how perfectly formed Blaine was from top to bottom, nor did he want anyone to ever accuse him of taking advantage of the situation so he kept his eyes averted and completed the task as fast as he could.

Once that was complete, he dressed Blaine in what was little he had left to wear and covered him with pelts. Eventually he'd have to return to that stinky hellhole next door to retrieve the rub, but Kurt figured that could wait given everything he had just done.

He stayed awake that night, listening to the wind pick up in speed and whistle loudly outside, and listening to Blaine's cough with a pot at the ready to catch any more vomit if it came. Periodically he changed a cool cloth he had applied to Blaine's forehead to help with the fever, and tried to get Blaine to sip some melted snow water with little success. It wasn't until morning that Blaine regained any consciousness.

"'ere 'm I?"

Kurt looked up from where he was reading beside his firepit. Blaine was turning his head slowly and his eyes were only slivered open as he looked around.

"You made a mess of your place so I had to bring you to mine."

When Kurt spoke, Blaine's eyes found him and regarded him quietly through his lashes. "'m sorry."

"You should be."

Blaine let out a little sigh and it took Kurt a minute to realize he had fallen back asleep already. Did he really think chastising a sick man would do him any good?

While Blaine slept, Kurt took the initiative to do something he had been dreaming about for a couple weeks now, deciding to deal with any potential fallout later.

He cut off Blaine's beard and trimmed his hair.

He really hoped Blaine would be alright with it, because the last thing he needed would be to be accused of using Blaine's weakened state to make the man more appealing, but honestly, he had opened up his germ free home to Blaine in his sickly state and Kurt could argue that having less fur all over his head would make it less likely for germs to catch and stay with Blaine. That had to make some sense right?

Blaine didn't argue though, at least not since he was completely out of it while Kurt carefully trimmed his curls so they bobbed around his chin and then did the same to his beard before using up his razors to shave the man's face clean.

It was a startling difference. It took years off of Blaine and made him look as young as he acted. Under all that fuzz was a baby face and red lips that Kurt realized matched the colour of the head of…. well… the thought made Kurt blush.

Even if Kurt had wanted to leave for the day, to hunt or work or get food, the weather was not cooperating. The day only got colder from the night before and the wind would not let up. He was lucky he had some rabbit from the day before because he was able to make a meager stew with it. Kurt would have to try to get Blaine to eat at some point - assuming he ever woke up from his feverish coma - and drink more than a few sips at a time.

A nap took Kurt over at midday and he slept hunched against the side of his hut where he had been rereading one of his books. When he awoke, he saw honey eyes looking back at him from the bed.

"'m sorry…"

"You said that already." Kurt responded with a yawn, stretching his arms out over his head as he went through his own motions of waking. "If you're awake though, you need to get some food in you, or at least more to drink."

He helped Blaine sit up, watching worriedly as Blaine realized his face felt different and placed a hand up to feel the skin that had been hidden under all that facial hair while he poured some melted snow water for Blaine to drink from one of his cups.

"You shaved me."

Kurt nodded and dove right into justifying it, "You were covered in your own vomit and snot and sweat and it was the only way to make sure it was all gone."

Blaine then looked down at himself, and had he not already been flushed with fever, he would have blushed.

"You washed and changed me…."

Kurt glanced away with that, looking at the fire and forcing himself to appear apathetic, "You definitely needed it."

"Thanks."

Internally, Kurt sighed in relief, though he didn't show it outwardly as he helped Blaine drink, holding the cup to his mouth and tipping it back for him since Blaine was still shivering involuntarily at random intervals.

"Think you can manage food? If you puke again, I warn you, I don't have enough clothing left for the both of us at this point."

Blaine's eyes grew wider as Kurt said it. "I puked on you?"

Of course he didn't remember. He would be so lucky.

"Yes. All over your place too - which is why you're here."

"Sorry…."

Blaine truly looked sorry as he said it, eyes glancing down at his lap in pure shame, avoiding looking back to Kurt. Like a puppy caught chewing a shoe Kurt thought to himself and shook his head. There was no way he could be mad at Blaine for it.

"It's alright. It happens."

The rest of Blaine's period of wakefulness before he went to nap again was spent with Kurt trying to spoon feed him little bits of the stew he had made and then forcing him to swallow a pill for his fever. Blaine's face was rewashed to cleanse it of sweat and Kurt even braved the blizzard outside and the stink of Blaine's hut to retrieve the rub so he could apply it to Blaine's chest and back for him.

"You'd make a good doctor…." Blaine mumbled as Kurt rubbed the ointment across Blaine's back.

"I don't think I could deal with getting puked on on a regular basis." Kurt admitted, earning a small chuckle from Blaine though it immediately spiralled into a cough.

Before his nap, Blaine thanked Kurt no less than five more times and apologized another three times. It made Kurt feel guilty for being upset with Blaine for puking on him earlier, recognizing that Blaine was blameless in the matter. He had probably caught this bug from Beth, after all, when he had rescued her.

Kurt slept fitfully, curled up on the floor by the firepit. Even though his hands had been on Blaine, he washed them thoroughly every time he had to touch him. He wasn't going to just let that flu walk into him by sharing a bed with Blaine, however innocent his intentions might have been.

And, of course, the blizzard kept up. The next day Kurt had to brave the cold by layering himself with the remainder of his clothes so he could could get food for himself and Blaine as well as check in with the clinic to let Trent know how things were going and see if there was anything more he could do.

"Sounds like you're doing quite well Kurt. Good job."

He tried not to roll his eyes as Mike said it, even though the words seemed patronizing.

When he made it back, Blaine was sitting up and holding a mug of water with both hands, trying to keep them steady as he drank. In a flash, Kurt set down what he had gathered from town and was at Blaine's side to help support the cup so Blaine could drink.

"How're you feeling?"

Blaine shrugged his shoulders a little, "Pathetic… feeble… achey…"

"So better?"

"Yes."

They didn't share much more in terms of words. Blaine's throat was sore on top of everything else that was wrong with him, and he wasn't able to keep himself conscious for long enough to hold a conversation anyhow. Kurt spent most of the time reacquainting himself with Margaret Atwood.

By the third day though, there was a break in the blizzard and in Blaine's fever. His appetite came back in full force and made up for the days where he only drank water and sipped tiny bits of stew. Kurt even had to make a run into town to get more for Blaine to eat, even though he insisted on only giving Blaine a little bit at a time to avoid overfilling his stomach and causing a return of the vomit. The best news was that Blaine was able to go outside to relieve himself on his own. The past few days had forced Kurt to form an iron stomach as he helped Blaine out and in every time he needed to do his business and there was absolutely nothing special about helping another man out in that regard. Even though Kurt wasn't right beside Blaine for that, he still hung out a few paces away to help Blaine when he was ready to return and some of the sounds and smells that came out of that man were nothing short of disgusting.

"You don't have to kill things for me you know… after all this…" Blaine swept his hands out to indicate the whole of Kurt's home which had been opened up to him on one particular afternoon. "... I would have let you borrow the phones before without anything, and I definitely won't accept anything in return after this."

"Oh I'm definitely going to be borrowing your music without trade now. Furthermore, you'll be coming on a scavenging mission with me when you're all better because I need a whole new wardrobe after your projectile puking." Kurt stated with a chuckle to let Blaine know the incident was in the past now, and something they could laugh over. Besides, Blaine would need more clothing too to get through the winter.

"That'd be good actually… I need to be able to contribute more. I don't know how much more credit that food I brought will get me and Trent and, given the weather out here, I don't want to have us without food options."

"We'd never let anyone starve." Kurt insisted.

"I know… I just made a promise and I intend to keep it to the best of my ability."

Once the blizzard weather had tapered off, the snow still clung to the ground, but it was mild enough to tolerate for more than just quick runs back and forth to town. Kurt was used to it, given that winter in the region lasted almost half the calendar year, and since he was a loner, had no problem keeping himself occupied with his books, stitching together new items from pelts, and making arrows for his bow. Blaine on the other hand, quickly became stir crazy.

"Do you have any board games we could play?"

"No."

"What about paper and pens? We could play tic-tac-toe or -"

"No."

"Well how about - "

"No."

Blaine sighed in exasperation and laid back on the bed where he had been sitting up watching Kurt read the same book for two days in a row. Kurt knew his books inside and out before he donated them to the community library and picked up new ones from scavenging.

"If you're bored I picked up a bottle of cider vinegar from the kitchen staff to help with your home."

Blaine turned his head so he was looking towards Kurt. "What is vinegar going to do for my place?"

Kurt smirked a little. "Cleaning. Closest we have to disinfectant here."

Blaine wrinkled up his nose. He hadn't been back to his place since Kurt brought him in and had questioned how bad his vomiting incident had really been, at least until he saw the pile of clothing scheduled for burning outside.

"It's alright, " Kurt noted, deciding to spare Blaine the thought. "I took care of it when you were napping."

"You didn't have to do that…" Blaine's voice trailed off into a whisper as he looked at Kurt who was beginning to get uncomfortable with just how much Blaine watched him. Not that there was all that much to do being stuck in bed while recovering, but Kurt didn't see why he was so interesting that Blaine's eyes were so set on him.

"It's alright. Kept me busy and there was nothing in my traps this morning when I checked so I needed something to do since I didn't have any furs or feathers to take care of."

"But still… it's gross. You shouldn't have to do it."

"I already did Blaine. Don't worry about it. You sure you don't want me to read to you?"

Blaine shook his head just a bit. The fever was gone but he was still plagued by aches all over his body and he had discovered that shaking and nodding his head as he would have usually made his brain feel like it was being slapped against his skull, so every movement was done carefully. "You read it all to me yesterday and I didn't like the way it ended and the guy was a jerk."

Kurt chuckled and looked back at the pages in front of him. Blaine wasn't wrong, but he was going to have to learn to be less choosy about how to spend his time, especially when things got REALLY cold.

"What if I told you stories?"

Kurt glanced back up over the edge of the book, his eyes caught back on Blaine's. "What do you mean?"

"Unless you're not interested… but I could tell you about places I've been and people I've met. Maybe I've met someone you're related to or something."

"Not possible."

Blaine used his elbows and arms to push himself back up to sitting, though never lost sight of Kurt's face as he did. "Everyone asks when we travel community to community if we've met up with certain people…. even now, so long after the fact."

"My family is all dead Blaine. It would be pretty pointless for me to ask about ghosts."

Blaine's lower lip caught in his teeth and Kurt quickly tsked him for it. "Don't chew up your lip. It'll get chapped in the cold if you do that."

The teeth released Blaine's lower lip, but the apologetic look remained. "Are you sure they're dead or are you assuming they are because -"

"No. One hundred percent sure. I'm not one of those who lost contact with family when The Tides began. I know for sure what happened."

"Oh."

Kurt sighed and set the book down on the ground open to the page he was on for later. Clearly Blaine was not going to let him read - whether it was for questioning him or just making him feel his presence with those honey eyes drilling into him constantly. "What about you?"

Blaine made a weak attempt at a smile, "My parents were in New York City when it happened… so they're probably not around anymore, and my older brother was in Los Angeles, so… the same probably for him… but I still have a bit of hope that they might have escaped and I'll run into them one day."

When Kurt heard things like that, he was honestly a little glad that his dad had died in front of him because at least he knew for sure what had happened to him. He didn't have to wonder like so many others did and ask every newcomer if they'd met up with certain people. Chances were likely that Blaine's family was all dead, since New York City and Los Angeles were both coastal cities that had been taken right at the beginning of the Tides. He'd never heard of any survivors from them at the very least.

"And you?"

"I was setting up my room at my new boarding school when we first got word. At first everyone thought it was all a joke… but then… so many kids couldn't get ahold of their parents who were on the coast somewhere and they we saw the stories on the news and heard the radio broadcasts… a group of us from the school decided to pack up and leave before it reached us and we've been on the move ever since."

"Must be hard for you then… staying in one place for so long."

Blaine shrugged his shoulders up a touch and Kurt watched as his pupils flit around his eyes while he thought. "It's not as bad as I imagined actually. You meet a lot of weird people and groups on the road. This place is a veritable utopia in comparison with most places I've been. So isolated from the effects of The Others and people seem to get along for the most part…"

Kurt drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, interest piqued now as he looked back at Blaine just as intently. "What kind of people have you met?"

"Oh… there's all kinds of groups, but they can usually be categorized as breeders, renegades, techies, families, half-breeds, or religious fanatics. Your community being the exception to any categorizing."

All those terms were new to Kurt. He had heard the term renegade before, but didn't actually know the functional definition. "What are…. all of those things?"

Blaine sat up a little straighter once he knew he had Kurt's attention and explained. "Well breeders are groups that think they need to repopulate the earth with humans and have kids like it's their job…."

No thank you, Kurt thought to himself. The occasional child was fine, but Kurt couldn't see a whole community of them, especially when they were created not out of love to another person, but out of a desire to repopulate a planet that was no longer under human dominion. How fair was it to a child, let alone a bunch of children, to have them when you couldn't ensure their safety from the pointy-eared bastards who had destroyed civilization, or even ensure you could feed them for that matter?

"... renegades are those who still wage war against The Others. Small things though - like bombs and mines and that. None of them are big enough operations to do anything major other than cause the Others a bit of annoyance."

So needing chains of Others ears made more sense in that regard. However, Kurt didn't understand why people would make huge efforts to cause small hiccups in the operations of The Others. The manpower and resources it would require wouldn't compensate for any output they would hope to achieve.

"... techies are getting fewer and farther between these days. They're trying to circumvent the Others by creating technology that might stifle their magic, but it's been unsuccessful from what I've seen and heard."

Definitely not something Kurt had ever heard of either. He had only ever heard about Other magic, never seen it in action, and certainly couldn't comprehend creating something to combat it.

"... Families should be pretty self explanatory and are the most common. They've stuck together over the years for survival and sometimes join with other families as their kids get older and pair up themselves."

Which made sense. Kurt had travelled with his own dad to this place after all, and would still be with his dad if Burt were still alive, whether that meant staying in the community or moving somewhere else. So long as they were together, it wouldn't have mattered.

"... The religious fanatics are the worst. They see The Others as God's punishment for the sins of man. All they do is try to appease God in whatever way they think is right. Not surprisingly… some of them are also breeders as well as renegades."

The thought was horrifying. Not only hoards of small children, but religious zealot children as well.

As Blaine paused, Kurt realized that Blaine hadn't explained the one term that had caught his attention the most. "What about half-breeds?"

"Oh… well.." Blaine pursed his lips as he thought about how to explain that one. "Conspirators might be a better term… humans who've had children with Others or live peacefully with them. Their offspring are half-breeds. Renegades target them a lot because they know they'll go down a lot easier."

Kurt couldn't help but gawk. It was the first time he'd ever heard of Others that didn't kill humans outright, let alone mate with them. "I didn't know that happened…."

Blaine just nodded, unphased by the thought, "Most of the kids I've seen have been under five, so it didn't happen right after The Tides… but it's pretty obvious they're not totally human but also not Others. There's no sense to the matings either. Men and women seem to be pretty balanced on the human side of the parenting, and there's no preference to race or age or whatever. Some people have tried to figure out what makes some humans desirable in that way to Others but no one can figure it out, nor can anyone figure out why those humans do it willingly and, apparently, happily."

"And Renegades kill them? Even if they're just kids?"

Blaine glanced down then, with something akin to shame spreading over his face. "Yes. Renegades live in a pretty black and white world. You're either human or you're not. Half-breeds and their human parents are really human in the eyes of Renegades because a real human would never sleep with the enemy or have their blood in them."

Kurt didn't know how to respond to that. Sure, he hated the Others and what they represented, how they had changed his life and destroyed everything he had ever known. He hated how they had take away his father's possible chance of surviving his heart attack and how they had forced him up into this climate - but to kill kids. No. Kurt drew the line at that. Others or not, kids were kids. They had no more choice about what they were born into than Kurt had a choice about his sexuality.

"What about you…" Kurt finally said when he decided to speak up. "... what about the Warblers?"

"Survivalists… brothers in name, so kind of like a family. This community too… I'd say it's much the same."

Kurt nodded at that, though thought to himself that if the community was a family, then he was that awkward cousin that hid in the basement at family get togethers.

"Blaine…?"

"Yes?"

"If you're survivalists… how did you come by the ears?"

A sigh, and Blaine stared down at his lap. "I don't know if it's stupid to admit it… but… I've never actually killed anyone Kurt."

"Why would that be stupid?"

"Because in some groups, killing Others is what makes you human."

"Like Renegade groups?"

"Yes."

"We just established that we're not Renegades here Blaine."

That earned Kurt a nod from Blaine who seemed to relax a little as he continued. "Honestly… we needed to trade with some Renegades for some insulin for one of the guys who's diabetic so we dug up some bodies that we knew another Renegade group had buried after a successful raid on a half-breed community and used the ears off them. They don't take the ears off half-breeds since they're not the main threat, but a lot of the kids have those ears still…."

Kurt went white, and Blaine must have seen it because he looked away shamefully. Those were still kids, and even if Blaine hadn't killed them, he had still desecrated the bodies.

"I'm not proud of it Kurt… but they were already dead and we needed the insulin…."

"I'm going to read now." Kurt managed to say after a full minute of silence while his stomach sunk in as a sour feeling ran through it. He had looked at those ears. Imagined that they had belonged to adult bodies of the enemy and just put them out of his mind. Now to know that they had been taken off of children, innocent but for the fact they had been born out of two worlds, who had been killed because they were easier targets. Kurt was not one to deny the evil of the Others, but no child should be faulted because of how they were born.

Blaine, for once, did not try to engage Kurt in any further discussion, and also didn't make any more eye contact for the rest of the day. He napped, though fitfully, and Kurt did his best to ignore him and will away the pit in his belly. He read, though not well, the words just drifting over him as he used them as a means to avoid the other man in the small room.

It was easy to appreciate where Blaine had come from. They needed insulin to keep someone who was already alive, still breathing. The children were dead and could be seen as a resource to serve a worthy cause.

However, Kurt couldn't help but draw up the image of the children Blaine had used a knife on still being diapers or clutching a doll or teddy bear in their rigor mortis. Kurt didn't think he would have been able to do the same, no matter what was at stake.

He finished his book and excused himself cooly an hour later to take the book to the community library (more of a room with piles of books in it that no one had really taken ownership of), check in at the clinic, and collect their dinners. When he pass the wall though, his eyes wandered to where his dad's name was.

If he needed those ears to save his dad, would there have been any question?

Of course the answer was no, and when he returned to the hut he had made the decision to speak with Blaine again, or at least cease the uncomfortable silence.

"Guess what?" Kurt asked in his best cheerful tone, which was unpracticed but made Blaine look up with wide hopeful eyes all the same.

"It's… stew!"

Blaine's mouth turned up at the corners and he chuckled, accepting Kurt's apparent forgiveness without question. "Third day in a row hmm? Someone must have kept them well stocked with venison."

Kurt handed Blaine his flatbread with the stew thickly poured over top and sat on the edge of the bed to eat his own. "Well sorry. In the future I'll try to hunt you a nice lobster."

"I'm not complaining Kurt… whatever deer you kills tastes really good."

Kurt picked up a chunk of meat between his fingers and popped it into his mouth. "Well I do like to add a bit of allspice to my arrowheads."

They chuckled together and the conversation from before wasn't spoken of again. While the thought did float through Kurt's mind from time to time, it was just as quickly put out of his head when he acknowledged that Blaine likely wasn't as happy with what he had had to have done to help his friend no more than Kurt would have had he been in his shoes at the time.

"Trent also told me to tell you to get better quickly because he needs girl help." Kurt mentioned as he ate. He had had to drag himself away from Trent who, in the absence of Blaine, was obviously lonesome and clearly desiring social interaction given his feeble attempts at trying to keep Kurt in the room with conversation about the food and weather.

Blaine made a vague blech noise as Kurt brought it up. "Trent is utterly clueless when it comes to women and I get the feeling that Kitty is purposely playing hard to get with him just because he is so oblivious."

"Hmm."

Kurt only let himself feel slightly irritated by the thought that Trent wanted Blaine's help with Kitty. Somewhere in the back of his mind Kurt was well aware he had concocted a fantasy where Blaine with his honey eyes was just as gay as he was and knowing that he must be good enough with women to have Trent asking for help was forcing Kurt to have to squash that fantasy, however small it was. Even if Blaine had been gay, it wasn't like Kurt could entertain the thought of Blaine in that way. He would be leaving in the spring after all and therefore not relationship material.

"Any hints about Kitty you know that I could share with Trent?"

Kurt grunted and rolled his eyes up as he thought. He didn't really didn't know Kitty that well. She was one of the ones around the community who gave him a wide berth unless she needed something from him.

"She's been in a non-relationship with a guy named David Karofsky since she got here… kind of like a brother-sister thing. They live together by the street corner where the train station was."

Blaine arched an eyebrow, "Oh yah? Good friends? Or failed past relationship that just got comfortable to stay in?"

Kurt shook his head, "Most of the time they argue with one another so I don't know how they're friends and definitely not a past relationship. Karofsky's gay even though he still can't say the word aloud."

Blaine formed a silent O with his lips and nodded, apparently thinking on that fact.

"Is he the big white guy who came with you guys when you picked up Trent and I?"

Kurt nodded. "Yes. The one that looks and smells like an old meatball…"

"You don't like the guy huh?"

Kurt snickered and looked down at his food. "That obvious huh?"

"Well when you first said his name you might have well of said Voldemort."

Kurt laughed brightly then. It took Blaine aback when it happened and he looked at Kurt curiously until Kurt was able to catch his breath to explain.

"That's the first time in years I've heard anyone make a Harry Potter reference… I honestly thought people had forgotten about that."

"Well… no one should forget a classic like that. Did you see all the movies when they came out?"

And just like that, Karofsky was forgotten.


	9. Chapter 8: Revelation

_**"You could not step twice into the same rivers; for other waters are ever flowing on to you." - Heraclitus of Ephesus**_

When Blaine returned to his own shack it was a huge relief for Kurt. One of the reasons he had cleaned Blaine's home for him was so that Kurt could have a private place to do his daily washing. He might have seen Blaine in all his glory, but Kurt was not going to extend the other man the same privilege. The last time anyone else had seen him naked was his dad when he was a kid. He didn't figure having a sick man in his hut was reason to change that.

It also meant that Kurt could sleep in his own bed again - once he had swapped the pelts around anyhow. He didn't want to sleep on the same pelt Blaine had just in case any germs were there waiting to invade his body. Given how quickly the bug had spread into the community and held almost half the population hostage over the past couple weeks, it was clearly a virulent strain that Kurt was not going to mess with. He already had used up all his good luck when he didn't contract the bug when Blaine had puked on him as it was.

Kurt didn't realize how quickly he had become used to Blaine's presence until things went back to normal. Blaine was back to visiting Trent regularly and now had a swath of new friends courtesy of his new hero status so he was only in his shack to sleep. He at least made the effort though to keep Kurt supplied with music, so Kurt couldn't help but forgive him for that.

And the thought that he was forgiving of Blaine for being absent nagged at Kurt as well. Why should he have become so accustomed to another person so quickly that the quiet he awoke to each morning was disconcerting, even though he should have been sleeping much better since it was in a bed and not on the ground. What was there to forgive Blaine for? He wasn't expected to be in Kurt's home no more than Kurt wanted anyone else in his home. He was used to his privacy. It was safe, comfortable, known.

So why did his heart leap into his throat everytime Blaine stopped to wave to him when they passed on the street?

"I see whatever advice you gave Trent is working well." Kurt quietly noted one morning to Blaine in the lobby of the clinic when he saw Kitty and Trent flirting shamelessly with one another in the next room.

Blaine chuckled and shook his head, "He just needed a little self confidence is all."

"Is he one of the guys who has girlfriends in other places?"

Blaine shook his head, "No… Trent is… well… Trent's a stand up guy. Half the guys talk about taking what opportunities they have for the bedroom and Trent has always been insistent on waiting for the right person. It's gotten him some grief sure, but look at that…" Trent was on the receiving end of a peck on the cheek from Kitty as Kurt and Blaine peeked in. "... none of the guys could ever say they've looked so happy as he does right now."

Kurt smirked. "And all it took was his getting his leg crushed."

"Well…" Blaine's head turned to look towards Kurt with a small smirk of his own, "... maybe there is such a thing as fate… or perhaps it's just Trent being Trent - making good on a bad situation."

"If only we could all have his disposition." Kurt mused, looking away from Blaine so their eyes didn't catch. He was having a harder time evading those honey eyes and loosening himself from their hold when they did capture him.

"Well, since he's occupied, maybe you could have lunch with me instead? I know you're probably on your way to something, but -"

"I was." Kurt lied.

"... but maybe, just this once, you could delay it?"

"Fine. But keep me entertained."

Blaine beamed and led the way outside, now a pro at finding his way to the kitchen. They waited in line and collected their meals, going to sit at a table as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Holy shit. Hummel's having lunch with the rest of us." Noah exclaimed then.

"Has hell frozen over?" Santana chirped in addition to the commentary.

Kurt just sighed and ignored the comments, setting about eating his meal.

"I know you said you rarely eat with everyone else Kurt…." Blaine said, voice lowered, "But is it really that unusual?"

Kurt gave Blaine a solitary nod, looking down at his food with what might appear to anyone else to be deep interest though it was really just his attempt to avoid eye contact with anyone else.

"Do you want to eat somewhere else then?"

"It's okay." Kurt said quietly, not looking up and speaking towards his food. "I don't want to disrupt your meal."

Blaine's shadow on the table shook its head and then stood, taking both plates, "You're not. Come on."

Kurt stood and walked after Blaine, trying to sort in his head what the hell had just happened and why Blaine was so insistent on making things easier for him. They walked for a ways in silence before coming to the library where Blaine set their plates each on a stack of unsorted books and sat on the floor. "There."

"You didn't have to do this you know Blaine… I'm used to it all… and it's not like they were being mean or anything." Kurt noted as he sat himself on the floor aside Blaine and took his plate in hand.

"No. They weren't… but it didn't take a genius to figure out you weren't comfortable there and I did invite you to lunch after all. I don't want you to be uncomfortable on my account."

God why wasn't Blaine gay and staying in town Kurt thought to himself as he looked with wide eyes over at the other man. It had been so long since someone had taken the time to really look at him and see how he was feeling.

"Can I ask why you're so tense around other people or is that an off limits conversation?"

Kurt sighed and shook his head, "It's just… a long story… and if it's okay, I really don't want to spend my lunch telling it." Or trying to figure it out for that matter. What had started as some of the group making fun of his ears and skin tone had gotten so much worse, so quickly, that Kurt still couldn't figure it out in his head. All he knew was that it had culminated in a hate kiss and a beating.

"Of course." Blaine smiled and nodded acceptingly, much to Kurt's relief.

"I've been thinking…." Kurt started, deciding to change the conversation dramatically to get the focus off him. "... has anyone ever looked into how humans and Others mate to get half breeds? I read in a biology textbook that something has to be of the same species in order to be able to breed, and that would mean…."

"That Others are related to humans. Yah. It's been brought up before." Blaine said with a nod, "Though it could be like a horse and donkey thing… making mules that can't reproduce. No one is sure if those kids are fertile since they're so young."

"Still… it certainly raises a whole lot of interesting question about them."

"And us."

"Like?"

Blaine licked the stew off his lips, something Kurt couldn't help but watch, and explained, "Like if humans are genetically related to them, then why can't we use magic and they can?"

Kurt shrugged, "Never seen them use magic to begin with. Never really seen one for that matter - only on television."

"Really?" Blaine perked up at that, looking at Kurt with something he could only see as surprise.

"Really. Most people here haven't."

"Wow." Blaine said softly, voice trailing off as he looked off in the distance for a moment, "Maybe that's why this place is relatively sane."

Kurt chuckled and shook his head, "On the surface anyhow. What about you? What have you seen of them?"

"Well… when we go into the old major cities you can usually see them on patrols. You have to use binoculars though because the best place to stay in the old cities is high up in old apartments. They don't seem to like to go up too high…."

"Wonder why that is…"

Blaine shrugged, "Not sure. Odd considering some of them can fly or at least change into things that fly."

"What else can they do?"

Blaine smiled over at Kurt then, a simple gesture that for some reason unnerved Kurt. "If they hadn't totally killed off humanity and pushed us to these barren places I would call them amazing… "

"But they did, so…"

Blaine nodded and looked back away freeing Kurt of his gaze and letting Kurt breath again. "Some change shape… some can change size… I've seen some fly and turn into puffs of dark smoke… there's those that can create water and fire in their hands… they all seem to have a special talent…"

"We really didn't stand a chance."

"No. We didn't."

It was quiet then as the certainty of that statement swept over them and they spent the moment eating.

"How did you guys fuel your quads?"

"They're diesel… so there was more fuel available to use when the Tides happened…. and we all keep a map of places that still have diesel stores - like old gas stations. When we found a good batch we added some stabilizers to it and hid it. We have them stored everywhere…."

"And what'll you do once they're used up?"

Blaine chuckled, "Apparently… and this is what we've been told, haven't tried it yet, used fryer fat is a good fuel source. That stuff never degrades if the fast food bins is any indication…. god I miss fast food."

Kurt chuckled. "That is one thing I definitely don't miss."

"What do you miss?"

Kurt had to think about that. He knew questions like that were common among the community but it was the first time it had been directed to him.

"Hot showers."

"With smelly soap…." Blaine added on, eyes closing as he began to imagine it.

"And a towel right out of the dryer waiting when you got out…." Kurt said, moaning softly as he pictured it.

"Slippers too…"

"And deodorant…."

"Another homeless jab Kurt?" Blaine said, peeking an eye open at him.

Kurt laughed and shook his head, "No… honestly… I used to spend so much time taking care of my skin and hair… Time that would have been better spent learning some useful skill for this world."

"I think you're doing okay Kurt… everyone says you're the best shot in town after all."

Kurt looked away. Sure he was, but what good was being able to hunt when he couldn't keep his little shack in one piece without a whole lot of effort? And there were others things he could have learned about that would have benefitted him more than the fashion and music he had gravitated towards as a youth - like mining for example. If the community could just find a good source of coal they'd be a lot more comfortable….

"Besides… you and I… and so many others were kids when the Tides came. There was no way we could have been prepared…" Blaine added on, seeing that Kurt was lost in his own thoughts.

"I'm just glad my mom didn't have to live through it…" Kurt said without thinking and then winced his eyes shut. He hadn't meant to let that out, to speak of her aloud. It made her real.

"She died before the Tides?"

Kurt just nodded as an image of his dad grabbing the last family photo the three of them had had out of his wallet before throwing it away, saying that he wouldn't ever need to worry about credit cards again as he tried to cheer Kurt up on the road north.

"Was it peaceful at least?"

Kurt shook his head that time. She was bound by cords and IV's to her hospital bed, a ghost of her former self. She didn't look like she did in the picture his dad carried, or the one Kurt kept in his mind for that matter.

"Sorry."

Kurt eyes split apart to small cracks and turned to look at Blaine, quiet for a moment before responding.

"Thank you."

"For what…?" Blaine looked confused.

Kurt shut his eyes again, "For listening even though I wasn't talking."

"Oh…."

"I should take this back and get to hunting." Kurt said, referring to his empty plate as he started to stand. Blaine's hand dashed out then and took the plate from him.

"I'll do it. You go."

Kurt nodded his thanks and left then, returning to his hut to get his bow and arrows so he could hunt as he said. It wasn't actually what he had planned on doing, but he needed to get away after opening up to Blaine. It had been so long since he had spoken so candidly with anyone and it was like tearing open a scar on his heart and letting tainted blood cascade through his body. It ached, and Kurt needed an escape. Hunting was as good of an escape as anything.

Two jack rabbits later and after releasing one of the local wild dogs caught in one of his snares, Kurt returned in the dark to the community. Even though it was still around supper time, darkness has swept over the land. By the time winter solstice came, or Christmas for those few who still celebrated it, it would be dark for more hours of the day than it would be light.

He turned in his catches, collected his dinner, and started making his way back to his home as Kurt was ready to turn in early since he had an early patrol shift the next morning. As he passed by the clinic, a grating female voice spoke out to him.

"Hey elf boy, you and that little hobbit are getting pretty close." Kitty said with a smug smirk, leaning against one of the wooden pillars to the side of the doorway as she looked at Kurt.

Kurt stopped in his tracks and let out a low sigh to release any anger the old nickname brought up in him before he looked toward Kitty with icy eyes. "Can I help you?"

"Oh no." She stepped down from where she was and approached him, her overconfidence radiating off her and that damned bouncing ponytail that Kurt would have loved to cut off. "Just wanted to thank you. I'm told it's because of you that I get to spend my days being appreciated as much as I should be."

Kurt looked at her blankly for a moment and then spun his wrist around, "... and by that you mean….?"

"Well rescuing Trent for one. He keeps telling me that you picked up the call that resulted in him being here so he could butter me up with compliments all day, and of course for accepting, once again, that you shouldn't be in a position of any power which resulted in my being selected for the new medic position."

Kurt tried to stop himself from rolling his eyes, but the strain of holding back was painful so he ended up doing it anyways. Kitty was nothing if not full of herself. "Whatever…." He looked away then, preparing to continue his journey when she called out.

"Wait."

Kurt looked over his shoulder, giving Kitty one more chance to say something worthwhile.

"You shouldn't have to be so miserable all the time you know. At least get some action from that hobbit before he goes."

Another eye roll. "Kitty. Even I was so free with that, that hobbit, and I'm assuming you mean Blaine, is straight."

She laughed at that. Guffawed really and shook her head. "Oh the hell he is."

Kurt knew she was conniving and wouldn't be played to feel like he had a shot just because Kitty teased him into it. "He is."

"Oh I assure you, he's gayer than the fancy song and dance show Rachel makes the kids put on every year."

"Give it a rest Kitty. I think I know him better than you."

Kitty smirked and folded her arms over her chest. "Oh really? Well… good news for me then…." She looked back to the clinic and yelled, "Oh BLAINE!"

Kurt's eyebrows shot up to the top of his brow and in anticipation of whatever Kitty had in store, he turned in place and stood there as Blaine came out on command, looking first to Kitty, then to Kurt, and then over to Kitty again, his face knitted up in confusion.

"Is… everything… okay?"

"Oh fine sweetie…" Kitty's words dripped with syrupy sweet and she strode over in front of Blaine. "... I was just wondering…" She placed a hand to his chest and Kurt's heart rate shot up with the motion - as did Blaine's own eyebrows. "... Kurt, once again, won't go to the dance with me this weekend… so I was thinking…" Her fingers drummed over Blaine's chest while she locked eyes with him, batting her eyelashes with a little more than suggestiveness, "... maybe you could take me…"

"Eh-heh…." Blaine flummoxed, adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he backed up a step, away from the wandering hand of the woman trying to seduce him on the spot before Kurt's own eyes.

"Oh come on…." Her fingers followed his movements, though flicked under his chin, rubbing the scruff there and winking so that Kurt could see. "Trent can't dance, so he won't mind…"

Blaine took another step back, and looked to the side to Kurt for help, who just gave him a shrug. It wasn't like Kurt knew how to handle any woman, let alone Kitty.

"I'm pretty sure he would mind actually…" Blaine stuttered as he looked back to Kitty, finding himself abandoned by Kurt in this situation.

"Oh no. He said I should ask someone else to take me until he can spin me. Besides…" She ignored Blaine's apparent discomfort and wound her hands around his hips, Blaine worrying his lower lip in his teeth as she made the motion, and then he went wide eyed when she pressed against him. "... I need someone who can follow me back home afterwards."

Kurt felt his stomach lurch then, not only because of the gratuitous display of sexuality from a woman, but because he didn't want to see Blaine lose any sense of sensibility and go for it.

"God… Kitty…." Blaine shoved himself back and out of her arms, "You know I'm not interested in… women parts. And even if I was, I wouldn't go behind Trent's back like that." His face went red with the admission and he seemed to be keeping his eyes away from Kurt once he said it.

"Oh I know - and neither would I for that matter." Kitty smirked and the act she had been putting up fell away as did her hands to her side. "Just making sure!"

And with that revelation, Kitty Wilde walked back into the clinic, her ponytail bouncing behind her head.

"So… that was incredibly weird…." Kurt managed to spit out while his head spun along with his heart, making him feel like a teenage boy again.

"Yah… uh…" Blaine's head turned towards Kurt, though his eyes looked down towards the ground in what looked like shame. "... sorry. I don't know what the hell just happened there."

"With Kitty, you really never know - and it's best not to try and figure her out either. Your brain will end up hurting too much."

That got a weak chuckle out of Blaine, and then his hand came up to rub the base of his neck, "I'm getting that…"

"So…. gay huh?" Kurt's mouth went to work before his mind even had time to filter the question.

"Yes… but…" Blaine's brow wrinkled as he then looked up in confusion at Kurt with pools of honey eyes. "... I thought you knew."

Kurt's own brows lifted and he shook his head slowly, "No. Not a clue before now."

"Oh… well… I just thought you were homophobic…."

"What?!" Kurt's head shake went from slow to quick. "Not even…. Blaine… what the hell gave you that idea?"

Blaine gave the back of his neck another rub and looked towards Kurt with guilt drowning his features, "You didn't seem real pleased about that Karofsky guy being gay… and you wouldn't come near me when I was staying with you…."

Kurt's eyes rolled up, on both accounts. "Oh god Blaine… I don't care about Karofsky's sexuality. I just don't like the guy as a general rule - straight or gay…. and I didn't come near you because you were sick. I didn't want to catch it."

"Oh…."

"Good grief… of all the people to think of as homophobic you thought I was… really?"

Blaine let out a small giggle and nodded, "Well… I mean…"

"Fuck Blaine, I'm gay too. How do you think I knew Karofsky was gay?"

"Oh."

Blaine's face was priceless as it went from awkwardly guilty to genuinely surprised, his eyes looking Kurt up and down as if he truly didn't believe it.

It was honestly the first time Kurt ever had someone surprised to discover he was gay, so he allowed himself to appreciate the novelty, a small grin tugging up the corners of his lips. Blaine eventually seemed to realize he was gawking and locked his eyes back onto Kurt's face.

"Well I kind of feel like an ass now."

Kurt laughed at that too and gave his head a small shake, dismissing the self degrading comment Blaine bestowed upon himself.

"Don't worry about it. Though I wish I could say it's a common mistake."

"Everyone else knows?"

Kurt just nodded at that. How Blaine couldn't figure it out was beyond him. Generally the voice was a giveaway - though he imagined that how he was when he was younger would have predisposed him to more stereotypes - fashionable, flippant, and fastidious about shopping. Those who knew him then would have had no problem assuming his sexuality.

"Huh."

"You really thought I was a homophobe Blaine? Really?"

Blaine nodded meekly, guilty smile on his face. "Sorry. You have this whole tough guy thing going on and you've always seemed uncomfortable when I wanted to move in beside you so I thought…."

"For the record, I'm uncomfortable with everyone."

"Noted. Even if I don't understand why."

Silence floated between them after that until Blaine made another awkward chuckle and excused himself.

"I should… ah… get back to Trent. He's probably wondering…"

"Yeah." Kurt quickly agreed, "Say hello for me."

Kurt walked back home then, perhaps a little too quick on his feet. For the second time that day he felt the need to escape. Escape what though was the question in his mind. Perhaps it was just the awkwardness of that whole situation or that, for once, Kurt had been very wrong about something. Worse yet, he had been outsmarted by Kitty on the matter.

No. He hadn't been outsmarted. He had been used for her amusement. She must have known the truth from Trent and then used it against Kurt for her own merriment. She probably enjoyed seeing him writhe in discomfort at the scene and then probably listened into the embarrassment that followed. Any woman who spent so much time with Karofsky voluntarily had to be at least a little vindictive, and given how bitchy Kitty was regularly, she more than just a little vindictive.

He seethed as he ate his meal, picking it up with harsh jabs of his fingers and chewing as if he were gnawing on Kitty's head. What an absolute bitch. What Trent saw in her was a mystery, but it was no shock that she was so close with Karofsky after a scene like that.

Thankfully he had a new book borrowed from the makeshift library to occupy his mind for the remainder of the evening, which he was lost in until a light rapping came from outside his door.

"Who is it?"

Did he really have to ask the question he wondered to himself, only one person visited him.

"Blaine."

"Come in."

Kurt set his book to the side and watched as Blaine came in, teeth chattering and shivering slightly as he cursed the cold.

"Get used to it."

Shivering yet, Blaine nodded and knelt by the fire, warming himself before pulling a phone out of his pocket and handing it to Kurt. "Here. Your favourite."

"How did you know this one was my favourite." Kurt asked as he took the phone, one with a distinctive green case that was indeed his favourite of Blaine's as it had a medley of Broadway showtunes on it. Something he would have never admitted liking more than all the others lest it make him appear more gay than he had already presumed Blaine had known prior to their run in earlier that evening.

"Battery on it is always completely drained when you return that one and even though you try to make it seem like you like them all equally, your hand and eyes always hover over that one when you pick your music out for yourself." Blaine said with a simple shrug, as if anyone could have seen that.

Kurt fingered the phone gently. If it was possible to love an inanimate object, it was certainly true of him and that phone. He had even muffled his humming one night with a shirt when he knew he would have been heard by Blaine carrying a tune along with the music on that phone. He had tried to not be obvious about his preference, but Blaine had seen through it.

"So… the dance coming up. Those fun?" Blaine piped up, trying to make conversation as Kurt just looked over the phone in his hand.

"Don't know. I don't go."

"Really?"

Kurt just nodded. He didn't see the appeal. All that ever happened, according to what he overheard the next day, was that people got drunk off homemade alcohol and ground against one another to poorly played live music. He didn't drink, he didn't have anyone to grind with, and he certainly wasn't going to stand poorly done music - especially when he now had Blaine's phones.

"Well… maybe you could come to this one?"

Kurt shook his head and smirked, "No - and neither are you for that matter. In case you've forgotten, we leave for a scavenging trip tomorrow and won't be back in time for that dance."

"Oh…" Blaine said, eyes glancing over the fire, "... right. I didn't think we'd be gone that long."

"We're hitting up a small town further away. A day of travel at least each way."

"I'd better make sure Trent knows…."

"You and him both need warmer clothing for the winter."

Blaine nodded, looking down at his threadbare clothes, the only pair he had left after his bout with the flu. Kurt just hoped he tried to wash them now and then, and was glad Blaine never took off his shoes around him because he imagined his socks stunk to high hell.

"You know how to ride a horse?"

Again Blaine nodded, smirking a little as he admitted, "I was a polo champion before The Tides."

Kurt let out a low whistle at that. "Parents in New York, brother in California, was going into a boarding school, and a polo champ? How loaded were you before?"

"My parents did alright." Was Blaine's humble answer, though from the slight glint in his eyes Kurt picked up on as he said it, he knew that Blaine came from good money.

Not that it mattered anymore. Money didn't do Blaine any good when he couldn't buy new socks or clothing anymore.

"So…. you going to hog my fire all night or are you going to get yourself to your place and to bed?"

Blaine blinked and then bolted up to stand. "Sorry."

Kurt shrugged, setting down the phone after pressing the buttons needed to play the music and then picking up his book. "Good night."

"Night Kurt."

Blaine left hurriedly and once he was gone, Kurt had to reread the page he had just finished just to remember what had happened when he left off. After finishing the chapter, he gave up on trying to remain focused on both the music and the book, letting the music win as he put the book down again and curled up in his pelt bed to sleep.

The next day was the usual routine, save for the preparation for leaving in the afternoon. Aside from ensuring his backpack was still sturdy enough to hold anything he'd find, Kurt didn't have to take care of any of the preparation. He was already well stocked on arrows, which he made himself in his spare time, and he had triple checked his bow to ensure there were no weak spots.

The highlight of his day had to be young Beth running away from Noah and to him to give him a hug. Having the youngster suddenly attached to his side with his arms wrapped securely around him gave him a jolt of surprise, which seemed to melt his heart rapidly. Ignoring the onlookers, he knelt down, though only a little because Beth was tall for her age, and hugged her back.

"Hey. Thanks. What's this for?"

As she pulled back, she beamed at him, "Just 'cause."

"Well that's the best reason." He said with a smile returned to her and stood back up.

"Have a good day Mr. Hummel!" She said, waving back to him as she ran back to her father, who looked both proud and confused at once as he took his daughter by the hand and spoke quietly to her.

"I will now…." He murmured to himself, watching the little girl leave with her dad. Flashes of dreams he'd had where he'd been a father flitted through his mind and he had to take a sharp intake of breath to draw himself back to the present.

Being a father was hardly an option for him anymore. Gay men were only just being accepted as viable parents when The Tides happened and now the concepts of surrogacy and adoption was as dated as the French Revolution or the Civil War. He wasn't going to be a dad and that was final.

He was interrupted a second time on his way back to his hut to smother his coals so his home didn't burn down while he was away. It was Karofsky of all people.

"Kurt, can I talk to you?"

"What is it Karofsky?" Kurt said, ice settling over him as he prepared to speak with the brute as quickly as he could manage.

"David's fine you know… there's no other David's in town…." Karofsky wrung his hands and glanced down to the ground, evading Kurt's frigid glare.

"Fine. What is it David?"

"Well… I was just wondering…. if you'd like to go to the dance with me?"

He spoke the last part so hurriedly that Kurt had to take a second to ensure what he was actually hearing was real. Even so, he had to make sure.

"Come again?"

"Would you be my date for the dance?"

Kurt's mouth went dry and he just stared at Karofsky, who was doing his best to avoid Kurt's eyes, looking everywhere but them while he continued to fidget with his hands.

"I'm going on the scavenging trip today."

"Oh… I'm sorry… I didn't know…."

Kurt's brow was furrowed and his eyes jumped around to ensure this wasn't just some odd prank. He had to make sure no one was snooping in on them, ready to jump out and laugh at him. No one was around them though, and Karofsky's voice was full of honest-to-God sincerity. Kurt didn't know how to handle it.

"Why are you asking me something like that anyhow Karofsky?"

"David…"

"Fine. David. Why did you ask me?"

"I think I love you."

The ice in Kurt's heart just cracked a little and he took a step back, now double checking to make sure they were the only ones there.

"You THINK you love me?"

Karofsky looked up then, so obviously nervous as his eyes tentatively met Kurt's and his lower lip was pulled into his mouth for an anxious nibble before he replied.

"I don't know for sure because you always have this wall up so I'm not even sure if what I love is really you or the front you put up… but I have… for awhile…"

"Oh for…." Kurt's arms swung out to either side, "Have you maybe considered that what you love is the idea of another gay guy in the community and you're tired of taking care of your own needs?"

Karofsky shook his head at that, "No… and that's not it… but even if it was - do you really want to spend the rest of your life alone Kurt?"

"I would rather spend my life alone than hook up with the guy who led an attack on me after he forced me into kissing me… yes."

Kurt could see the colour change in Karofsky's eyes as he said that, and he wasn't sure if talking so candidly was a mistake or not, but he didn't regret it. Karofsky's eyes went from darkened to lighter as his pupils contracted along with his fists - now at each side of him.

"That was YEARS ago Kurt… and I apologized… and I'd apologize again and again if you wanted. Why can't you let it go? I hate myself for doing that to you! You have no idea how much I regret it… but what makes it worse is that no matter how hard I try to be a decent person now, I'll never seem to earn your forgiveness."

"You can't expect me to just forget - "

"I'm not expecting you to forget it Kurt. I'm hoping you'll forgive me for it one day."

Kurt sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, "And then what? Shack up with you and live happily ever after?"

Karofsky's eyes darkened again and his hands relaxed at his sides as Kurt said it and he nodded, "Or just live… it doesn't have to be happily ever after, but I don't want to just survive anymore. I want to live."

"I was being sarcastic David. It's not going to happen."

"Why? Why can't it happen?!" David became angry against just as he had so quickly mellowed out a moment before. "Is it that new guy? Are you screwing him?"

Kurt rolled his eyes, "No. I am not doing anything with him David. The issue is not him."

"So it's because you can't get over something that happened years ago…."

"I'm sure I could get over it David, I just don't see the need to."

"Because you could be happy!"

Happy. Was Kurt happy? He wasn't sure, and as he asked himself the question, not knowing if he was happy cemented for him that he probably wasn't. Even so, the idea of Karofsky making him happy was laughable.

"I'm going to ask you again you know." David said, breaking Kurt out of his thoughts, "Every time there's a dance… or special event, I'm going to ask you until you say yes."

"Then you'd better prepare for a lifetime of disappointment David."

The larger man sighed and looked to the ground, and Kurt took that as his cue to leave. He had wasted enough time on David Karofsky - he wasn't going to spend a moment more on him, especially if it meant delaying getting out of this town. Suddenly the scavenging mission seemed like a way to escape and if there was one thing Kurt always seemed to want to do, it was escape.

When he got back to his shack, he was met by Blaine.

"Hey… ah… what should I do to prepare?"

Kurt smiled and showed him how to smother his coals and tie up the entrance so animals couldn't sneak in. As the pair of them got them empty packs and headed towards town again, one of the local wild dogs came up and Blaine immediately knelt to the ground and started scratching behind the ears of what was some kind of black lab mixed with something else.

"Friend of yours?" Kurt asked with a hint of amusement as he watched Blaine happily accept big licks over his face from the friendly mongrol.

Blaine laughed and stood up, patting the dog on the head, "I guess. He's shown up everyday for the past couple weeks. Friendly guy too."

"Girl Blaine. She doesn't have the necessary parts to be a male dog."

"Oh." Blaine peeked down at the dog's lower appendages and nodded confirmation, "Must have missed that."

"You're not sharing your food with her are you? If you do she'll never leave you be and it'll be one more mouth to feed…."

Blaine shook his head, saying his goodbyes to the dog who trotted off as if she had important business of her own to attend to. "She's just friendly."

"Maybe she wants to stay in your shelter for the warmth…"

"Maybe she just wants a friend."

Kurt shrugged. His whole adult life had been about trades and exchanges, debts and repayments. It was about making sure he did his part so no one could accuse him of not contributing. If Kurt knew one thing, it was that there was a price for everything, and Blaine was getting duped by a dog for something.

"You never had a dog growing up?"

Kurt shook his head, "My mom was allergic to pet hair."

"Too bad. Dogs are great. Always happy to see you, willing to play when you are, great for cuddling."

"Shed hair everywhere, eat your food, constantly want your attention…."

"And yet you put up with me." Blaine said with a smug smirk directed over at Kurt.

Well he had a point. Kurt chuckled and nodded, "Yes. I do. Although I don't need to let you out to go to the bathroom."

"You did when I was sick… sorry about that by the way."

"You've apologized enough for that. Don't worry about it. I'm repressing the memory anyhow."

"Thank goodness. That was definitely not my finest hour."

"More like not your finest week."

The conversation continued well into town where Kurt waited outside of the clinic while Blaine said farewell to Trent and then they went to the organizational office where Mercedes already had several horses hitched up with saddlebags filled with rations and water bottles for them.

Waiting there for them was Santana, who, along with Kurt, went on almost all the scavenging missions, Sam, who at some point had signed up to be a guard in what the rumour mill suggested was a way to impress Mercedes, and Quinn.

"I would ask who's taking point but…" Quinn started and then looked over at Kurt, who only smirked in response as he pulled himself up onto a brown stallion.

"Come on then. Let's get as far as we can before our horses need to rest." Kurt announced once he was up top and everyone else was still climbing onto their own horses - Blaine noticeably going the extra mile and giving his horse pets and whispers in the ear.

They travelled along with the sun as it set - to the west, and then turned south along an old gravel road until the horses slowed and they set up camp for the night - having a meal of jerky and jam on bread before napping for a few hours and then making their way out again.

True to his history, Kurt took the lead for most of the trip. Blaine and Sam seemed to be getting along quite well and every time Kurt waited up for the group, the pair were talking and laughing about a variety of things. It was good for Blaine to make other friends, Kurt said to himself, though he couldn't help but feel a small twinge of jealously about it given that Blaine was the closest thing he had to a true friend and he didn't want to share if he could help it.

When Kurt didn't lead, he joined the conversations with Sam and Blaine. He laughed where it was appropriate, even though Sam's impressions of old actors were mediocre at best and the pair's reenactments of old movie scenes were awkward and forced. Kurt at least knew most of what they were trying to do, even when Quinn looked ready to kill them for the noise they were making.

"Honestly, I'm surprised Kurt hasn't threatened you boys yet!"

Sam and Blaine both looked to him then and Kurt gave them a small, nonchalant shrug, "I'm trying to loosen up a little."

And while Quinn cursed under her breath about having to take on the role of bitch since Kurt wasn't going to step up to it, Kurt realized that he meant what he had said. Karofsky was right about one thing - he needed to stop surviving and start living.


	10. Chapter 9: Debauchery

_**"Thousands have lived without love, not one without water." - W.H. Auden**_

It turned out that loosening up was not as easy as Kurt initially thought. It took everything in him to hold back his agitation when Sam and Blaine began talking about a shooting video game they had both played when they were younger and made the noises and actions associated with it. When Santana started openly talking about her bedroom life with Britany, again Kurt had to refrain from telling her to shut up. Then Quinn started in on how Noah was an idiot for various reasons and Kurt just wanted to tell her to keep it to herself. There was never any reason to air domestic complaints as openly as Quinn did.

So he just stayed quiet, and took out his annoyance on his teeth as he ground them.

They finally reached the town they intended to scavenge, and not a moment too soon because Kurt was about to lose it on Sam who was showing Blaine how he could make fart noises with his armpit when they spotted it. It wasn't a big town, in fact it qualified as a village on the map they had - meaning it had only been home to around 300-1000 people. As such, there wasn't going to be many stores they could check out, so they'd be going through people's homes. On the flip side though, villages tended to be ignored by other groups who opted to go to cities where there were more places to go through so it could be that this place wasn't as touched as others.

"It's like one of those little towns that they had those old Disney movies set in…." Blaine murmured as they walked the horses through the center of the town.

"Probably started as a farming community gathering site or something…." Kurt said, taking note of how old the church at the center of town looked. Definitely a community grown around old world beliefs and practices.

"It's not too close to any rivers or anything… it might have been safe for people to stay in." Quinn piped up, peering at the map folded to a manageable size in her hands.

"'Cept so many people left safe places to check on family and friends in unsafe places." Santana said with a snort. "Regular zombie apocalypse movie idiot stuff. Isn't a Disney movie, that's for sure."

Blaine and Sam nodded in agreement with that and Kurt just shrugged. He hadn't been a horror movie aficionado back before The Tides to know if the statement was true or not. He did know that when the coastal cities had been taken so quickly, and easily, that panic was widespread everywhere else. Some people left their homes to find families, some left them because it wasn't clear in the early days that The Others were only interested in holding cities near large bodies of water or waterways. Whatever the reason, they had yet to run into any survivors staying in any of the places they scavenged.

"You ever come across a town that's still intact?" Sam asked of Blaine, vocalizing Kurt's own thoughts.

Blaine gave a small nod, "Just tiny ones though. Your community is the largest gathering of humans I've ever seen."

"And the largest gathering of non-humans you've seen would be….?" Santana inquired, picking up on the one key word Blaine used.

All eyes turned onto Blaine who just shook his head and looked down, "Rather not talk about it…"

"Why? Think we can't handle it?"

"No. I'm sure you can, I just don't think I can. I'd like not to bring up old wounds…."

Looks were exchanged between the regular community members and Blaine's silence seemed accepted, though Kurt couldn't help but feel nibbles of curiosity eating away at him as they continued to ride.

The first order of business in town was ensuring that it was indeed empty. Homes were peeked into, and the group checked for signs of recent habitation - from freshly put out fires to fresh tracks. Not finding anything, now they focused on finding a home for the night.

"Dear god. Please one with separate bedrooms this time." Santana huffed as they looked into the first house and quickly left it as soon as they realized it was overrun with raccoons.

Several more were checked and deemed unworthy for various reasons - from mildew rot to floors that had caved in over the years. Finally they found a quaint little home that seemed to have withstood most of the elements and nature over the past years and set themselves up.

Santana claimed the master bedroom with Quinn, and Sam found a kid's room decorated with Star Wars - complete with the sheets, curtains, and wall decals to make it a true dream for him, leaving Blaine and Kurt in what appeared to be a teenage boy's room based on the fact it was filled with old band posters and clothing about the right size for a growing boy.

"You should try on some of those clothes Blaine. They look like they might fit you."

Blaine chuckled and nodded, pulling out a swath of black shirts from a dresser, "Think this kid was into the goth scene much?"

Kurt scanned over the posters on the wall, all of them were for screamo and deathrock. "Yeah… I think that's probably a pretty safe bet…."

"So… do you want the side of the bed by the wall or by - "

"I'm not sleeping with you Blaine."

"But - "

"I'll stand watch tonight."

"All night?"

"I generally do."

"Oh."

Kurt helped go through the drawers then, looking for clothing for Blaine and himself. In the end, it ended up just being for Blaine alone because the clothing was too short on Kurt.

"I'm still waiting for a growth spurt…" Blaine admitted sheepishly, packing some of the warmer clothes that fit into his backpack.

Kurt chuckled, "Don't worry about it. You'll have more clothes to choose from this way. It's a good thing you look good in black."

"You think?" Blaine immediately perked up at the offsided compliment and Kurt had to backtrack on his words quickly.

"Well, I mean…. everyone looks good in black."

"Oh."

More drawers were opened and rifled through, save for one of the night tables which Kurt closed as quickly as he opened it, seeing a stack of dirty magazines with the top one opened to a less than flattering picture of a naked woman and lubricant inside. "Definitely a teenage boy…"

The pair was about to go through the closet when Santana burst in, wide eyed and with a grin that ran from ear to ear. "There's a shitload of booze in the kitchen!"

"Oh god…" Kurt groaned under his breath as soon as Santana ran off to announce the news to Sam in the room across the hall.

"Not a good thing?"

"Santana is a weepy drunk… Quinn is a mean drunk…"

"And you are?"

"On watch."

Blaine made a tutting sound with his tongue in his mouth. "Kurt. If you want to drink - I'll take watch for you."

"Not going to happen."

"Don't you trust me?"

"I don't trust anyone."

Blaine face seemed to fall, but Kurt ignored it. Truthfully he just didn't want to drink. He had seen what it did to so many other people - be it making them mean or weepy or just downright scandalous, and wasn't interesting in letting that happen to himself.

"Oh come on curls, don't worry about Hummel. He doesn't let down his walls for anyone." Santana quipped by the doorway. Kurt automatically tensed. He hadn't realized she had been so close to hear him.

"What the hell does that mean Santana?" Kurt snapped back towards the doorway, where Santana strutted back into the room.

"It means that you're an uptight bitch. Now go guard while the rest of us enjoy ourselves. Maybe you can figure out a way to get the pole out of your ass."

Between them, Blaine's eyes darted back and forth, and his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously. "Hey now… no need to be-"

"Shut up." Both Kurt and Santana shot towards Blaine who immediately brought his lips together tightly before the quarrelsome pair glared at one another.

"Here's an idea. YOU guard for once and I'll enjoy myself."

Santana seemed taken aback by the suggestion, and her tongue rolled between her lips as she considered before nodding once, "Fine. Half and half though?"

Kurt nodded stiffly in return, "You can drink yourself drunk when I go on duty." He too was taken aback, not expecting Santana to actually accept the offer, especially when it meant putting off getting buzzed.

"Oh I look forward to it." She said with a broad grin, leaving the room then looking all too pleased with herself.

"Well… hey… good news huh?" Blaine offered, peering towards Kurt still nervous.

"I guess. Now come on. Let's get this over with."

It was going to be a chore. Kurt didn't really want to drink. He had the occasional drink, usually when he was in pain - like when he needed to get stitched up a couple years ago after a shelf fell on him during a scavenging mission and cut open his side. The community's moonshine wasn't great on the palette, but it did take the edge off the ache.

Sam and Quinn were already in the living room and already had a bottle opened for each of them. Santana wasn't lying when she said there was a lot of alcohol. On the coffee table was no less than ten bottles of different types of drinks.

"None of this stuff goes bad…?"

Sam laughed and shook his head, "Not if it's not been opened before and it looks the family was preparing for a big party! Bet they didn't know the party would come ten years later!"

Blaine looked over the offerings and then picked up a dark brown bottle, taking the bottle opener offered by Sam and winching off the cap before he looked back to Kurt. "What's your preference?"

"Ah…." Kurt's eyes again scanned the bottles, looking for maybe a name that was familiar at least.

"Hummel's going to drink with us mere mortals? Has hell frozen over?" Quinn said, bottle balanced against her lips as she looked over with one brow lifted.

"Yah man. I never see you even at any of the parties, let alone drinking." Sam offered, eyes on Kurt as well.

With a roll of his eyes, Kurt just grabbed the bottle closest to him and held it out to Blaine to open. Blaine glanced at the bottle, then up at Kurt again, skepticism written all over his features.

"Just open the damned thing up."

Blaine complied, and then gave the bottle opener back to Sam. Before anyone could even suggest saying cheers, Kurt took a swig back and winced. It was smokey and strong, but he wasn't going to let them see a little bit of alcohol be stronger than he was so he swallowed it down and then took another sip, though a smaller amount.

"Figure's Hummel's a whiskey drinker."

Kurt shot a look over to Quinn who shrugged her shoulders up and continued to drink, reclined out on a musty looking brown chair - part of a set it seemed as Sam was sitting on the couch that matched.

Blaine sat down at the other end of the couch, leaving Kurt to take the loveseat. He sat on the edge gingerly, not trusting it to not give out given it's age and misuse. And, of course, there was always the threat of bedbugs or other insects nesting within. One had to be careful with old furniture.

"So how'd you do it Blaine?" Sam asked, looking to his couch-mate.

"Do what?"

"Get Hummel to drink with us?"

Blaine glanced towards Kurt, brow furrowed and then looked back to Sam, "I didn't do anything. Santana took over the first half of watch for him…"

"Kurt never gives up watch duty. He doesn't trust anyone else to watch his ass but himself."

"Screw off Quinn." Kurt snarled, taking another sip of the drink to which he was rapidly becoming acclimatized to.

"Maybe if you screwed a bit more you'd be less of a bitch." Quinn snapped back.

"See," Kurt glanced over at Blaine, "Mean drunk."

"Not drunk yet Hummel."

"Right."

"Why're you and Santana so short with him?" Blaine asked, looking meekly towards Quinn.

"Oh please. We give as good as we get, and with him the only thing that gets through is directness."

"But… that isn't being direct, it's being rude."

"Blaine. I can handle myself."

Blaine signed and nodded, taking another drink while Quinn and Kurt held each other's gazes for a moment before she finally broke it off to take another swig.

"You know how hard it is to get Mercedes to notice me?" Sam suddenly spoke up towards the ceiling, staring off into air. "I mean… what more do I have to do?"

"Try not screwing up all the time maybe?"

"Quinn." Kurt warned. It was one thing to be nasty to him, it was another to be that way towards Sam who was as gentle as they came.

"Most of the time I screw up it's in front of her too… and because I'm distracted by her…. I'm like… a walking calamity in front of her."

"Have you… maybe tried being direct with her about how you like her?" Blaine suggested.

"Oh… god no… I can't do that. She'd think I was a fool."

A series of snickers erupted around Sam who looked up and around then, "What? Why's that funny."

"No reason Sam. Just… maybe Blaine has a point. She doesn't seem to be about subtlety." Kurt offered, sucking back his chuckles and drowning them out with another drink.

The blonde boy sighed and leaned his head back on the couch, "Maybe…."

"Besides, you can't screw up on guard duty. If we ever get attacked you can't be tripping over your own feet because you see her." Quinn tacked on.

That was something Kurt could see happening. Sam was so lovesick over Mercedes that he would try to wave hello while an Other was trying to gut him.

"You guys ever been attacked before?" Blaine asked.

They all shook their heads.

"No. But we don't let our guard down either. That's how trouble happens."

"Makes sense."

"You should check out some of the clothing in the master bedroom Blaine. Some of the men's clothes look like they might fit Trent."

"I'll do that… thanks."

The next hour wore on as they talked about random things. True to her nature, Quinn started becoming angry about everything as the alcohol began to affect her.

"Fucking Noah leaves his socks wherever the hell he wants!"  
"They keep putting me on afternoon shifts. I hate afternoon shifts."  
"I'm fucking tired of stew. Is it so fucking hard to make something different?"  
"Eight years and I still have stretch marks. Nothing makes them go away."  
"Who the hell let Kitty in the clinic? She's more arrogant than ever!"

Kurt just let the alcohol wash over him. He felt warm, especially in the tips of his ears and down in his toes, but he didn't think he was any different than usual. The whiskey had grown on him and he sipped it gingerly throughout Quinn's ranting and Sam's remorseful moanings about Mercedes. Periodically Blaine would chirp in about something or giggle in such a delightful way Kurt couldn't help but grin at the sound.

Blaine was definitely a goofy drunk.

"We should dance. We should dance here since everyone else is dancing there!" He suggested, standing up and wobbling as he did, gravity hitting him square in the gut. Sam was quick to grab his arm though and pull him back.

"Whoa, whoa. Calm down."

"But we should dance." Blaine's head snapped back to Kurt, "Don't you think we should dance?"

Kurt chuckled and shook his head, "No. We should definitely not dance."

And at some point, Blaine began sitting upside down, legs hung over the back of the couch while his head tipped over the seat. "Why don't you have another kid Quinn? Beth is such a sweetie…"

Kurt and Sam both tuned in on that, trying to shush him before Quinn heard, but it was too late. Her eyes teared up and she looked away, "Can't."

"Does Noah not want another because I know…." He hiccuped before continuing, "I know all these guys who would find you totally hot."

She laughed at that and then looked back at Blaine, clearly bemused by his drunken antics. "When I had her, there was some tearing that they couldn't fix without modern medical technology…. my womb is barren now."

"Well that fucking sucks." Blaine said, pointing his finger at her and spilling some of his drink in the process of making the sloppy gesture.

She laughed and nodded, Kurt and Sam breathing a sigh of relief. The fact that Quinn wanted another, but couldn't have another, was usually brought up when she was raging and drunk - though never directly like it just had been. It seemed miraculous that Blaine had been granted a laugh from her.

"I don't think I've ever heard you curse before Blaine." Kurt mused, adeptly changing the topic to avoid any chance of rousing Quinn's ire.

"That's… that's…. 'cause I don't." He wiggled his eyebrows a little at Kurt, who grinned at the upside down face he was receiving. "I don't curse…. curse words…."

"You just did."

"No I didn't."

"Dude. You totally did." Sam spoke up.

"Well… fuck."

They all laughed at that. Kurt had to wonder if the alcohol was affecting him more than the heat spreading through him because he never laughed so easily. Still, laughing was hardly scandalous and definitely forgivable behaviour.

"We should sing."

"No Blaine. No singing."

Blaine ignored Kurt's directive and began singing. The song was not any one in particular, but a medley of different songs, all segwayed by Blaine humming and making lala noises as he seemed to be unclear on the lyrics. His antics though had the other three chucking and shaking their heads.

"You've got a nice voice." Quinn admitted, suddenly eyeing up Blaine with catlike intensity.

"I like singin'... it's good for me." Blaine murmured, eyes closing as he hummed a tune.

"So Blaine… you really gay….?" Was the blonde woman's next question.

"Oh no no no no." Sam snapped and wagged a finger at Quinn, "None of this now. You know what happened last time."

"Wha? I'm gay…. and what happened last time?" Blaine asked, eyes cracking open and looking blearily towards Quinn.

"Hmph." Quinn looked away, "Nothing."

"Quinn and Noah had a falling out over something that happened once on a scavenging, that's all Blaine." Kurt interceded, trying to stop the dialogue from continuing any further.

"Yah. Because she went all crazy slut on all the guys." Sam said, effectively nulling Kurt's effort to get through without any fallout.

"Oh please." Quinn snapped back at Sam, "You weren't even there to know."

"She even tried to seduce Kurt!"

"Really?"

Kurt groaned and looked away, "Let's not talk about this."

"Yes. Let's not." Quinn trilled, glowering at Sam.

"Didja think you'd try n' get the gay outta me Quinn? Cause I think you're pretty and all… but I like weiner."

"Thank you. Got that." She managed to muster as Sam and Kurt giggled together.

"Like I said Blaine, she tried it on Kurt too." Sam noted.

"Did ya' go for it Kurt?" Blaine asked, head rolling towards Kurt.

"No!" Kurt said insistently and then happened to glance at Quinn who looked pained, "I mean… yah… okay… Quinn's… okay…. for a girl… but I'm not…. Look. I'm not having this conversation."

More laughter and then more drinking. Kurt enjoyed the feeling of tingling warmth running up and down his fingers and toes. They felt feather light, and the pain he usually ignored in his back wasn't even bothering him at all. Maybe there was something to this drinking thing. He was definitely a whiskey man if this evening was any indication of how whiskey tasted and felt. He'd have to look out for the stuff on any further missions they set out on. At the very least, it would help keep him warm on a cold winter's night.

"I wish I knew how it ended…." Sam grunted, once again speaking to the ceiling.

"How what ended?"

"The video game I was playing when all the shit hit the fan."

Quinn snorted, "Of all the things you want to know… it's a video game you're lamenting?"

He lifted his head to look at her, "Well… yah. I mean, I was at my cousin's place when The Tides happened. My family was all back in California so I can safely assume what happened to them…. and I always told them I loved them whenever we parted ways…. so… I mean, I miss them, but I don't regret not saying anything to them or stuff… but it was a really intense game and had a good story…."

Quinn rolled her eyes and looked back away as Sam continued on, speaking a language foreign to Kurt as he described the game mechanics and plot. Blaine however seemed to understand and as he nodded and asked Sam questions about the game, Kurt watched him.

Blaine came to him now for weekly shaves, citing that Kurt did such a good job when he was sick and he didn't want to appear to be an unsightly neighbour and reduce property values. Kurt, amused by it, agreed and was now using up his razors like he never had before to keep Blaine's coarse dark hair at bay. The effect was worth it though. Clean shaved, or even with a little bit of stubble, Blaine was much easier on the eyes. It drew the focus away from his chin to his eyes, which Kurt could never seem to get enough of.

At some point though, he must have lost himself in his mind because the next thing he noticed was honey amber eyes looking back at him inquisitively. "You okay Kurt?"

He shook it off, "Yeah… yeah…. just. I should probably nap before watch."

"Look's like someone beat you to it." Sam noted, pointing with his bottle towards Quinn who had fallen asleep in her chair and making small, breathy snores.

They chuckled, though quietly, and Kurt sat up - and then immediately sat down when his vision started swirling and his balance was off. "Whoa…"

The other boys chuckled and then Blaine rolled himself backwards off the couch and stood up in front of Kurt, offering him a hand, "Come on. I'll help you."

"Don't need help…." Kurt huffed indignantly and pushed himself up again. It was a mistake though because as soon as he did it, the waves of vertigo hit him again and he swooned in place. "Oh…"

Blaine's hands immediately reached to steady Kurt, one under each of his elbows. "Easy. Come on."

Kurt let himself be led, slowly, down the hall and up the stairs, hoping that Sam would forget the sight by morning. Everything seemed so much more fuzzy now that he was on his feet. Walls seemed to blend into the carpets and Kurt found himself intensely interested in his own feet as he stared at them the entire trip to the room.

"I used to have nicer shoes…." He lamented to Blaine, leaning against the doorway when Blaine opened the room for them.

"I have to admit… never looked at your feet." Blaine murmured, once again taking Kurt by the elbow to take him inside the room.

"I've looked at yours. Your shoes are nasty."

"Well you can help me find new ones tomorrow."

"Your naked toes are kind of cute though."

Blaine flushed and Kurt giggled at the sight, sitting down with a flop on the edge of the bed.

"Right… I had almost forgot that you've seen me naked."

"All of you!"

Something about it became insanely funny to Kurt and he erupted into mad giggles, having to choke for breath as he tried to regain some semblance of composure.

"Am I that ugly naked?"

"Pfft!" Kurt laid back on the bed, stretching himself out and looking up at Blaine who continued to stand and look at him awkwardly. "S'ok… you can sleep by me. I'm too warm to care."

Blaine hesitated for a moment, then slipped off his jacket and shoes, and, as an afterthought, his socks before climbing over Kurt and taking the spot by the wall.

"Aw. You made your feet naked for me." Kurt drawled, looking down his nose at the end of the bed.

"Least I could do." Blaine murmured into the pillow. "Mmm… this kid had a nice bed."

Without considering why or what the point was, Kurt kicked off his own shoes and slipped off his own socks using his toes, wiggling them once they were freed. "There. Now you can see my naked feet and we'll be even."

Blaine laughed softly, rolling onto his side so he was looking towards Kurt, "I don't think that makes us even."

"Well I'm not about to get out of my knickers for you so don't get excited."

Blaine chuckled again, "Knickers… that's a funny word."

"Know what else is a funny word?" Kurt asked, rolling himself on his own side to face Blaine. "Spatula. Spa-tuuuuu-laaaa. Feels funny on the tongue."

Blaine laughed again, "That why you're not a chef?"

"Damn straight." Kurt huffed. "Plus, until the kitchen has a supply line with more fruits I like, I don't want to cook in there."

"Mmm… what kind of fruits you like?"

Kurt didn't have to think about it. "Peaches… pomegranates…. banana's…. cherries… I have been craving a good cherry cheesecake for ten years."

Blaine made a small yawn, then smiled sweetly towards Kurt, "I'll figure out how to make you one…."

Kurt smiled back, but didn't respond. There was no way Blaine could make good on that, and it wouldn't do to entertain the thought, and yet he didn't feel like he could quash Blaine's offerings with reality. Instead he just watched Blaine stare at him until black lashes fluttered shut and a familiar soft snoring began.

Kurt watched him for awhile. When Blaine had been sick, he only got close to him in hurried rushes to keep him clean and fed and watered so he could avoid germ exposure. Now, with nothing to threaten his immune system, and a feeling of complete inhibition floating over him, he stared. Noted how rosy and plump Blaine's lips were, or how his cheekbones peeked whenever he took a breath.

He could kiss those lips and no one would ever know the difference.

With a sharp snap of his head, he rolled away from Blaine then. He couldn't think things like that. That wasn't him. That wasn't right. Kurt focused on sleeping, and was happy to find that sleep overtook him once he managed to let the blur in his mind take over and fizzle out any thoughts he had left in his head.

When Kurt woke next, it was because a body was pressed tightly against his back. His first instinct was panic and he shot up, forgetting the alcohol in his system. With a moan he dropped back on his elbows as fog filled his vision and was then replaced by a set of amber eyes that looked at him with worry.

"Kurt?"

He had been snuggling with Blaine… or rather, Blaine had been snuggling him in his sleep. They hadn't been sleeping long given that the moonlight was still streaming light in at close to the same angle it had been when he remembered walking into this room - even though that memory was blurry as hell in his head.

"I… ah…. you were…"

"You're gorgeous."

The words caught Kurt off guard, and the first thing he noticed, aside from the sudden intense pounding in his chest, was Blaine's tongue slipping between his own rosy lips to lick them. He could kiss those lips… he could….

Blaine was the one who closed the gap while Kurt was still focusing on those lips and whether it's the alcohol still strumming through his veins, or Kurt just accepting life and wanting to get past surviving, he slammed himself, and his lips back against Blaine's. The kiss is sloppy, but so much better than the one forced on him years ago. Blaine tastes sweet beyond the flavour of the drink he had been consuming earlier and even the stubble rubbing back against Kurt's face doesn't stop him. It's only when he needs to breath does he pull back and look at Blaine in, shock settling into him as he recognized what he had just done.

"I…. you…."

"In the moonlight… you're gorgeous. You're always gorgeous… but especially right now…" Blaine rambled. He looked at Kurt's lips as he spoke and Kurt couldn't help but notice how the honey eyes had become overtaken by Blaine's pupils, blown black with lust.

Would he ever get this chance again?

Keeping his eyes locked on Blaine, until Blaine is looking back at his own eyes, Kurt peeled off his jacket, and then pulled his shirt over his head. He can do this, he says to himself, he can take this opportunity to live.

As soon as the shirt is off, Blaine's lips seemed to be magnetized to his chest and Kurt is kissed in places he never even knew were sensitive without any warning. With a mewl, Kurt fell back on the bed, eyes winched shut, letting Blaine take charge. Kurt didn't know what to do, but Blaine must. Blaine, so worldly, must have been with other men before and could show Kurt what he had been missing out on.

The thought didn't unsettle Kurt, because, aside from the fact that the alcohol was still coursing through him and making him completely forgiving of everything that ever was and ever could be, all his attention was all focused on Blaine's mouth and what it was doing to his nipple, sucked in between those lips that had just been connected with his own while Blaine's tongue dabbed at it inside his mouth. Blaine's hands wander meanwhile, first grazing lightly down Kurt's sides which makes him shudder and then Blaine's thumbs tuck into the waistband of Kurt's pants. All Kurt does is lift his hips to allow Blaine to pull off the last of his clothing, leaving him there, exposed in the moonlight, to the first person who has seen him naked in over a decade.

It's then when Blaine gives him a bit of reprieve and his lips leave Kurt's chest allowing Kurt to unclench his eyes and look at Blaine, who sits straddled over him and looks down at his naked body. It struck Kurt then that he didn't know how he would look to anyone else, and a bit of self consciousness creeps through his alcohol induced haze and he starts to worry about how he must look, or if there's something wrong with him. Would Blaine see all his scars, gathered from years of hunting and running missions? Would he notice how pale Kurt was? Maybe he would see that, no matter how much Kurt tried to eat, his ribs always protruded over his stomach. It isn't until Blaine speaks again that Kurt is able to allow his arousal to dominate his mind again.

"So gorgeous…"

Those two words relieve Kurt like nothing else and he exhales just as Blaine pulls off his own shirt and tosses it to the floor atop Kurt's discarded items. Maybe it is the moonlight, but Blaine looks more than radiant with that light shining on him, accenting all his muscle tone and making the fuzz on his chest and stomach glimmer. Kurt reaches out to trace the line of hair that runs down Blaine's stomach to the edge of his pants.

"There's lubricant in the night table." Kurt murmurs. It's nothing he thought he'd ever say, and the suggestion behind it leaves nothing to question. He's absolutely taking advantage of the moment and living life to the fullest - sex included.

Blaine nods, eyes never straying from Kurt as he unzips his jeans and peels off both his pants and boxers together, adding them to the pile before leaning over and opening the drawer. Kurt couldn't help but smirk when he saw Blaine grimace briefly upon being faced with those dirty magazines from earlier, but he managed to grab the lube and shut the drawer without losing his erection, which bobs with each of his movements and which Kurt can't seem to stop looking at. So different from his own, but perfect on Blaine.

"Roll over."

Kurt obeys, moving himself under Blaine's straddled thighs and exposing more of his naked self to this man. He didn't know how or when it was decided he would be bottoming, but he was glad that, for once, someone else was taking charge.

The position makes it hard for Kurt to see what's happening, but he doesn't get left feeling curious for long because he feels something cold and slimy rubbing against his exposed pucker. This is it. He won't be a virgin anymore. Taking in an anxious breath, he waited for the barrier to be breached.

Except when it is and Blaine is pushing himself in, Kurt isn't truly prepared and neither is the tight ring of muscle. It doesn't feel good and Kurt let out a small, sharp cry he had no way to keep inside. How could it feel good? Everything stretched and he felt like he was going to be torn into pieces right up from his spine. There was no time for his body to adjust and Blaine's hands grip him tightly on his hips, holding his already frozen body in place as he pulled out slowly and then pushed back in again with a groan. The second breach just as painful as the first. Then the third. Then the fourth.

Kurt bit down on his lower lip and kept himself braced, his knuckles white as his hands gripped the pillow with brutal force. He waited and hoped that it would be over soon, and then, it starts to hurt less and Blaine's cock brushes up against something inside of Kurt that seems to burn pleasure back into his body. After a minute, the pain subsides and the pleasure overwhelms him enough that Kurt begins to groan along with Blaine and cry out words he can't even process the meaning of as they fly from his mouth.

"Shh… you'll wake someone…." Blaine whispers above him between the slaps of his balls against Kurt.

The idea of someone coming in to ruin this makes Kurt whine and he muffled his mouth on the pillow. At some point his hips had began rolling back against Blaine to meet his every thrust and the friction of his own cock rubbing against the mattress gave Kurt the friction necessary to come, crying out into the bed as he did and making a sticky mess between him and the sheet he was on.

Whether it's the sound of Kurt orgasming, or just the natural time for it, Blaine pounds himself in one last time and keens. His fingers dig into Kurt's hips as he holds himself inside of Kurt and releases. There is no condom, no way to protect them from any diseases either one might carry, and Kurt doesn't care. The warmth and bliss that runs through him in that moment make him absolutely oblivious to anything except his own contentment. He doesn't care, and it's a wonderful feeling.

When Blaine pulls himself out after a moment, Kurt hisses. For feeling so horrid in the beginning, he doesn't want to lose the fullness he quickly became accustomed to. The air is cold as it seeps into him and his hips and ass seem positively frigid without Blaine attached to them.

Blaine grabbed a T-shirt from one of the drawers after getting up and off Kurt, and went about cleaning Kurt off - so delicate in his motions that Kurt ended up falling asleep again. It wasn't until a couple hours later that Kurt woke up again, a blanket had been drawn up over him and a warm body pressed against him again. That's when Kurt began to inwardly panic.

At first, it's just because there's an arm around him again - though this time he isn't spooked by it. The arm does remind him though of what he's done, and he knows, without any shadow of a doubt then, that he's an easy drunk. He let down all his walls he had worked so hard on keeping up and there was no going back. He had lost all his inhibitions and paid for it.

Then it's the fact that he feels Blaine naked against him. Every single coarse curly hair on the man is making Kurt itchy all pressed against him. On top of that, he can't help but feel disgusted by the dried come that had snuck out of his ass and dried between his legs. It made him feel used.

Kurt carefully took Blaine's arm and lifted it up, sneaking out of the other man's hold despite Blaine's sleep induced attempts to draw him back with grabby fingers. Kurt slowly got dressed and rubbed the grit off on his legs. If the ache in his head wasn't bad enough, the ache in his ass was worse. It feels like a stab going straight up his spine and all the muscles he never knew existed in his ass throbbed intensely.

He snuck out of the bedroom, and tiptoed down the stairs. Sam and Quinn were still on the chair and couch down there respectively, though both were asleep. He passed by them to go into the kitchen, which faces the front yard and is where Santana was keeping watch.

"So, curls took the stick out of your ass and replaced it with his own huh?" She mused, lips twitching up into a knowing smirk as she took note of him and slipped off the counter where she had been watching through the window.

"Oh god…."

She snickered and gave him a pat on the shoulder as she passed by, "Don't worry Hummel. The other two were too drunk to hear your moans of 'Oh god! Oh yes! More!' that I had the pleasure of listening to, and I won't tell anyone. Don't want your reputation as a frigid bitch to be ruined."

Kurt didn't say anything in response. The only thing worse than having had sex like that was that Santana listened in, and he had nothing to say in his defense. It was an odd blend of grief, guilt, and regret that he felt, and he didn't know which one to address first - so he dealt with the insistent pounding in his temples by grabbing a water bottle and drinking it all down. He heard that washing out the alcohol helps with a hangover, and since this is his first real hangover, he was eager for any relief.

What would his dad say about it? That's Kurt's next worry as he sat up on the counter, keeping his bow at his side and not readied in both hands for the first time since he's ever done a watch. His body ached, and he didn't really trust that he could make a clean shot then and there given his state, but he wasn't about to ask Santana to come back and watch for him, nor would he risk waking Quinn and dealing with her well known morning angst. Sam and Blaine couldn't do watch - they're both still newbies for scavenging, and Kurt wasn't sure he could handle talking to Blaine. So Kurt sucked it up and kept his bleary eyes on the world outside, watching with zombie like reverie as the sun rises over the horizon. He has never wanted sleep more than he wants it then.

And his head. Between the thudding of his hangover, that makes every small movement feel like his brain is being slapped against his skull, he now had to address the repercussions of his drunken debacle. His dad wouldn't have been proud. He knows that without question. His dad would have told him that people shouldn't connect in that way unless they love one another. His dad, who he misses more then than he has in a long time. He needs his dad to talk to. He needs his dad to listen to him.

Kurt can't help it when his eyes teared up, and if anyone came in then, he would blame it on the hangover. The truth, however, is much more sobering. He's let himself down. He gave into something that moron Karofsky said combined with the line blurring effects of alcohol. He gave into living - or what he thought was living in his drunken haze. That wasn't living. That was a bit of pleasure at the cost of a lot of self respect. He could have gone on without experiencing that and been none the wiser. Now he would have to figure out how to act around Blaine, and pray to some god he didn't even believe in that Santana was actually honest about keeping her mouth shut.

And he's definitely never touching alcohol again.


	11. Chapter 10: The Sighting

"_**A drop of water, if it could write out its own history, would explain the universe to us." -Lucy Larcom**_

Kurt heard Blaine approach well before the curly haired man made himself known. Kurt knew the sound of his footfalls, could hear Blaine's breath and knew from his time in Kurt's cabin the tempo of his breathing.

Still in the kitchen, and looking outside as he remained on watch, Kurt's headache hadn't lessened since he had come downstairs, nor had the ache in his backside for that matter. What had changed was his self loathing had only increased and he wished he could just fade into the background and hide himself away until he was more capable of dealing with his emotions.

He couldn't though, and now he would have to speak to Blaine even though he wasn't ready to.

Blaine hovered nearby for a moment, and Kurt pointedly did not turn his attention to him in that time, feigning ignorance of his presence. It was easier that way. He didn't have to meet Blaine's eyes or let Blaine see the burning in his cheeks.

"Is.. your head pounding as bad as mine?" Blaine finally said by means of letting Kurt know he was there.

Kurt made a noncommittal grunt in response, keeping his eyes locked where they were. He was becoming very familiar with the outline of the house across the street, but it was better than having to face something actually scary behind him.

He heard a shuffling behind him as Blaine shuffled from one foot to the other and then uttered meekly, "I'm sorry Kurt… I was drunk and much too rough…."

Whether or not Blaine had been rough, Kurt didn't know. He didn't know because it had been the first time he'd ever been with anyone else, and now he knew Blaine was more experienced than he was because Blaine at least seemed to know that it was rough. That wasn't the issue though.

"It was a mistake." Kurt deadpanned.

"Kurt…."

"I'm on watch."

"If I could just talk to you about -"

"On watch."

"Well maybe -"

Kurt snapped his head right around then, eyes protruding and red, nostrils flared, and face flushed.

"Don't you get it? I don't want to talk about it! It was a mistake. A fucking terrible mistake. We are NOT talking about it. Now leave me the hell alone!"

Blaine took a step back, and now Kurt could see that Blaine's own eyes were just as bagged and red as his own must be. As Blaine's chin lowered to his chest and he let out a long, low sigh, Kurt then was able to watch Blaine's back as he walked out the door in defeat.

A new pain added itself to Kurt's list of qualms - a numbness in his chest. He replayed the scene that had just unfolded between them and could only hate himself more. He didn't know what he would have said or done differently had he the ability to go back in time to change things, but he knew instinctively he had been wrong in what he had done.

To add to it all, Blaine confirmed what he already knew what must be true. They had sex because they were drunk and for no other reason. Blaine didn't find Kurt gorgeous any more than Kurt found Blaine to be trustworthy. There had been nothing romantic at all about the night before and Kurt imagined it probably resembled some B-grade porno flick the way it played out, making him feel sick to his stomach.

It was definitely not the idyllic way he expected to have his first intimate encounter. There was no gentle touches or extensive foreplay. No shared smiles or tender loving words. It was just quick, rough, and needy. It would be how Kurt would forever distinguish lust from love, with the experience from last night definitely defining the most basic of lustful pursuits.

And now it was just another notch on his list of things he regretted in life.

Quinn was the next one to walk into the kitchen, her footsteps just as distinct - a quick clack made with each step. She made herself known right away.

"Well you look like shit."

Kurt didn't even bother to turn her way. If she thought he looked terrible from a side profile, he knew he would look downright horrid face on. "Thanks."

"No. Really. You look like you were run over by a stampede of angry horses."

"I get it Quinn."

"You ever consider getting laid? At the very least it would might make you look less grumpy."

Kurt's grip around his bow became tighter, as did the muscles of his throat as he swallowed back all the saliva in his mouth. Did she know too? Did she hear it or did Santana already go back on her word? Or maybe Quinn truly didn't know and just happened to make the worst possible comment at the moment.

"Lay off Quinn. He had too much of the sauce last night." Santana's voice sang out from the living room.

Quinn huffed, "Well he shouldn't drink it if he can't handle it." She left the room then, thankfully leaving Kurt alone again to try and unfurl his fingers from his bow before he gave himself a splinter. In the next room, he could hear murmured conversation, Sam's voice included too now, and knew that everyone was up. Hopefully they could all just have their breakfast and get on the move so Kurt would have something to do other than to stare at nothing and stew.

Santana brought him breakfast shortly thereafter, setting it on the counter before him. "Should I even ask why you're pissy or can I just assume that the sex was bad and you have a hangover."

"I really don't want to talk about it Santana…."

"Whatever princess. Just eat then. We'll leave once we're all done."

At least the breakfast had some dried strawberries among the dry oats he had to chew on.

They left their temporary home, which was in reality much more comfortable than what most of them lived in back at the community, and began touring the town, stopping in each and every house to discover what treasures they could.

"Man you guys are organized." Kurt heard Blaine comment at one point.

It was true. They had a saddlebag dedicated to things they would bring to the clinic, a bag dedicated to any arms and ammunition they found (which had always been few and far between since that was the first thing people seemed to bring with them when they abandoned their homes), a bag for canned and boxed food that still might be good, a bag for any technical or mechanical things they could use (replacement pieces for the generators and motors they had, WD-40, and the like), and a bag for things that might trade well (like feminine hygiene products, make-up, and razors). Five of them, five dedicated saddlebags.

Anything they wanted for themselves had to go into their own backpacks - most of which ended up being clothing and hygiene items on any given trip, with the occasional book in the mix. Not everyone bothered with reading anymore, and so Kurt was the defacto contributor to the library room, with the exception of how-to books which had been their main source of how to farm and live off the land in the early days of the community.

Kurt otherwise ignored the rest of the group for most of the day, always staying a little further back than everyone else. He had already gone through his water ration for the day in an attempt to flush the headache out of him, and it had helped to take the edge off, but he was still sore in the temples and aching all over.

Especially down below. A persevering reminder of how easy he had been the night before.

It was midday and their bags were all filled to the brim when he heard Santana chastising Blaine up ahead.

"It's useless, don't bother with it."

"But I could -"

"Leave it. Your pack is full."

When they left the desk they had been looking over, Kurt immediately knew what Blaine had been about to grab. A small white device, clearly an old smartphone sat on the desk. Kurt ran his fingers over it and then quickly grabbed the item and slipped it into the front pocket of his coat. He didn't even need to think about it.

He paid attention after that, and saw Blaine give several longing looks towards other things ahead of him, and each and every time Kurt was able to find a phone or old music player where Blaine had been looking. By the end of the day, he didn't have any more pockets left to fill.

"We should spend another night here." Quinn stated, watching the sun go down in the horizon.

"We should leave now and set up a camp to sleep at on the way back." Kurt retorted. He had no desire to spend another night in this town and have to figure out room arrangements which he wouldn't be adhering to anyhow.

"Vote then." Santana directed. There was another reason why they almost always went in odd numbers on scavenging missions.

3-2 in favour of leaving. Santana and Blaine voting along with Kurt. He knew he'd always have Santana ready to get back to Brittany, and Blaine, he could only assume, wanted to avoid anymore awkwardness as well.

They packed up the horses and set off, Kurt inwardly cursing himself right away for suggesting they leave that night. If his rear was hurting while they walked around town, it was absolutely on fire having to ride a horse. He bit his lip though and ensured he took lead. That way at least he could try different riding positions without anyone questioning him in the attempt to find a way to ride comfortably.

The best way he found, was a standing in his stirrups position that had his calves aching by the time they made camp.

"Quinn can take watch since she slept so well." Santana told them, more of an order than a suggestive given the bite in her tone. Kurt, for once, didn't argue and once they had eaten, he found a place to lay down several yards away from everyone else before dropping into a quick and easy sleep.

His dreams were, as always, littered with nonsense. Dancing and singing on a stage, his mom and dad in the audience clapping wildly for him, drinking hot chocolate inside his old home after going sledding on a cold winter's day, seeing the Eiffel tower for the first time and posing for pictures in front of it.

And in every one of the dreams, there were those damned honey eyes on him. In the audience clapping with his parents, cuddled beside him and sipping his own cocoa, or the one taking the photos in France. Kurt couldn't even escape him in his dreams.

When it finally came that Kurt was dancing on stage with Blaine, he made himself wake up.

Everyone else was still asleep, so Kurt used that time to empty every pocket of the devices he had collected and tucked them into his backpack. He had left room in his backpack, even discarding his old boots and putting on newer ones he had found instead of taking them along with him, just in case.

"Kurt…?"

He was zipping up when he heard Blaine's groggy voice and sighed, turning in place. His anger had been spent throughout the day and now he was just tired and sad. "What?"

Blaine was sitting up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before looking up towards Kurt. "Can we please just talk? I gave you space all day but -"

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Stop interrupting me." Blaine hissed through his teeth and stood. It was the first time Blaine had ever been contrary and surprised Kurt, who clamped his own mouth shut. "I get that you think I'm a mistake, but we've got to coexist until spring so maybe you could just try being civil for a moment and talk to me like an adult."

Kurt felt his cheeks burn and he looked toward Blaine blankly. He was right. "Okay… but.. not here."

"Fine. Lead the way." Blaine grunted, leaving a space of several feet between himself and Kurt as Kurt led him well out of earshot of the rest of the group. Sleeping or not, he didn't want to share this discussion with them.

Clasping his hands behind his back, Kurt sedately nodded towards Blaine.

"Okay, first of all, you might think it was a mistake, but you need to know, the only thing I think was a mistake was the fact that it was alcohol induced and that I wasn't… kind. I feel really awful about that… but I don't just throw myself around like some kind of floozy Kurt. I am, and have been, genuinely attracted to you."

A rush of adrenaline flooded Kurt's body with that admission, and he had no where to channel the sudden urge to run and hide. His breath held for a moment as his eyebrows lifted, looking towards Blaine with the same blankness he had earlier.

Blaine looked back, waiting for a response he wasn't getting before speaking up again.

"And I get that you might not share that attraction… and last night was a mistake to you because you did something you otherwise wouldn't have, but I need to be honest with you about how I feel because you deserve that at least. To know how I feel.. however ridiculous it might be."

"It is ridiculous." Kurt muttered, his lips as tense as the rest of him as the words seemed to float through them.

"Well… anyhow… I just want you to know I am sorry… and I hope we can still be friends."

Is that what they were? Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers and clenched his eyes shut as he processed the information.

"Look… I'm not used to interacting with others as much as I have been… with you anyhow… can you just give me some more time to think? I'm just… not good at this shit Blaine."

"Of course…" Blaine said quickly, and Kurt noticed his face has brightened noticeably when he looked back to him. "... I'd say take all the time you need but I'm afraid, that with you, I'd never get a response."

Kurt's mouth pulled into a tight lipped smile and he nodded. What exactly he was supposed to be thinking about he wasn't quite sure - and that was part of his problem. The status of their friendship? His willingness to forgive Blaine for what Blaine perceived as wrongdoing? Kurt didn't know, and that was what he really needed time to think on.

"Anyhow… that's it…" Blaine muttered, digging the toe of his shoe into the dirt. "Anything you want to say?"

"No."

"I'm somehow not surprised." Blaine said with a chuckle. "Can we at least be civil with one another? I'll promise not to freak out on you if you don't freak out on me?"

"That depends…" Kurt said, lifting his chin up as he looked towards Blaine, letting those damned honey eyes dig a little into his own head, "... you going to get me drunk and bend me over again?"

Another chuckle and a shake of Blaine's head, "No. Definitely not."

"Good. Civility it is then."

They returned to where the rest of the group was sleeping and got the horses watered and fed in silence. By the time the sun was creeping over the horizon, everyone had awaken and eaten and it was time to move again.

The time spent on the saddle, leading the group home did nothing to help Kurt answer the questions or come any closer to deciding how to handle things. He knew he couldn't be snappy about it, even though that was his gut reaction to dealing with it. If only there was a book on the subject he could refer to, some Idiot or Dummy's guide to dealing with drunken one night stands in post-civilized society.

Of course his dad would have had a well thought out and brilliant answer, making him consider thoughts and feelings he didn't even know he had, unfortunately though, Kurt wasn't able to channel his father's voice, much less his wisdom during the ride home.

A glint in the distance, only a few kilometers out of the community caught his eye and he pulled the reins on his horse, bringing it to a sharp shop. He squinted, trying to figure out if it was just the sun hitting something reflective, or something else and pulled the binoculars off the case they were kept in on his belt.

Something… or someone… was in the tree's up ahead. He could make out a leg but not much else. Whoever they were, they weren't moving so he could see anything more than a slender calf, and what was truly odd was that that calf was naked in this cold weather. The feet themselves couldn't be seen because they were buried in snow.

He held position, keeping his focus on the leg ahead of them through his binoculars and when he heard the rest of the group approaching, he held up an arm - the sign that he had something in sights and to remain quiet.

Santana and Quinn held their reins out to Sam and Blaine as they got close and hopped of their own horses and pulled out their own binoculars to determine what Kurt was looking at.

"What the fuck… who the hell is out in the snow without clothing…." Santana whispered with a grumble.

"Maybe mad old' Kevin from the home got loose." Quinn said, referencing a senile old man who lived in the old brothel and was known for shedding his clothing and taking a run through town on more than one occasion.

"We've all seen Kevin… whomever that is isn't hairy enough to be him." Kurt murmured, wishing whoever was there would set into view.

Blaine slipped off his horse and held a hand out towards Quinn, who was the closest to him, "May I see?"

She looked over the edge of her binoculars at Blaine, brow bunching as she silently questioned his reasoning, but handed over the binoculars which he quickly put to his own eyes and followed Kurt and Santana's sight line with.

"Might be a shifter…." He uttered quietly, or at least more quietly than the gulp of his throat which followed.

"A shifter?"

"An Other than can change shape… they don't wear a lot of clothes… if any. Interferes with the change."

"Jesus…."

Kurt couldn't wait any longer for the figure to move on it's own. He slipped off his horse and started stalking to the side a few meters, everyone else watching him with nervous eyes as he crouched low and slipped his bow off his back before pulling the binoculars back to his eyes.

From this point, he could see more of the figure by the tree. He… she? was tall, willowy, and so much more pale than Kurt had ever been. The sharply pointed ears gave no question as to what he was looking at, nor did the inhuman shock of long blue hair which ran down its back and around its torso - so light and fluffy it almost looked like feathers against it's body. He held his breath and his heart stilled. This was the first time, in person, he had seen an Other.

It seemed to be unaware of their presence, picking cones off the tree it was flushed against and sniffing them one by one. The cones ended up discarded to the ground once they were done being smelled, at least until it seemed to find one that pleased it and popped it into its thin lips and began chewing it.

Taking his eyes away from his binoculars, Kurt looked over at his group, all impatiently looking right back at him. He gave a nod towards Blaine, confirming what Blaine had suggested which set all the rest of the group, save for Sam who was now holding the reins of all their horses, creeping to join Kurt's side and look through the binoculars for themselves.

"God… look at that hair…" Quinn whispered.

"Forget his hair, look at her tits!" Santana exclaimed in her hushed state.

Kurt looked again. Sure enough, under the feathery hair, was a set of developed breasts. So it was a female Other.

Blaine borrowed Quinn's binoculars again and watched for a moment before handing them back. "She's just eating. She'll probably go once she's full."

Kurt returned to watching the alien species. She was completely enrapturing. Every movement lined with grace - so fluid and purposeful. Those ears… how anyone could think Kurt was one of them when his ears only peeked a little was a mystery because her ear tips seemed to stop peeking at the top of her head and fall out to the side a little. Even the ears on Blaine's chain weren't a good indicator of how long those ears really were since they had dried and shriveled up - and from half-breeds for that matter.

At one point she turned towards them, and all at once they sucked in their breaths and held them in their mouths. Eyes so blue they were clear in the lens of their binoculars and lashes that feathered out themselves in the same deep blue as her hair. Everything about her screamed magical, and if that wasn't enough, a shimmer and a tremble had her morphing before their eyes into a large blue bird which rapidly hopped up into the air and took out in the sky over them.

"Holy….."

"Fuck….."

"They're something aren't they?" Blaine murmured. He hadn't even been watching since Quinn, Santana, and Kurt had been held captive by the sight through their binoculars, yet he seemed to know exactly what they had seen.

"How do they even….?"

"Magic." Blaine said simply.

Quinn shook her head, "So wait… they can change into animals? How did we not know this?"

Blaine stood and moved back to the horses then, the rest of them following him and eagerly waiting for answers. In that moment, it was Blaine who held all the secrets and had the answers they wanted, and that made him quite popular very quickly.

"They all have powers…." Blaine finally said with a shrug, pulling himself back up onto his horse and thanking Sam for holding the reins.

"What kind of powers?" Santana demanded to know.

"How is it that you all don't know these things?" Blaine queried with a furrowed brow, looking towards Santana and Quinn who were blocking his horse's path. "Everyone knows this stuff…"

"We don't."

Blaine sighed and shook his head, "There are those that change into animals…. like that one you just saw…."

"Any animal?"

"Any animal… including some that have been extinct or thought to be fantasy until ten years ago…."

"Shit…" Santana looked out over the snow, "We should start shooting down those dogs that come by the town…"

Blaine snorted at that, "Don't. For starters… they don't lose weight when they change. You saw that once change right? Did it look like a regular sized bird?"

"Well…. no…"

Kurt was sure he was just seeing things when he saw how big that bird was the Other changed into… but if they didn't lose weight, that meant it was just one huge bird….

"Secondly… dogs really are mankind's best friend. If we didn't use the quads my group would keep a good lot of them. Dogs are good early warning systems for the presence of Others and will protect you against them."

Santana's tune quickly changed. "I'm going to adopt me some of those dogs…"

Blaine smirked and just nodded, "Anyhow… I'll be happy to share everything I know about them…. I didn't realise you all didn't know that much about their magic, but maybe we could get back to town first?"

Begrudgingly, if only because they wanted to know everything as quickly as possible, Quinn and Santana got on their horses. While Blaine had been talking, Kurt had gotten on his, not wanting to seem as insistent as the girls, especially given the events of the previous night, though he definitely had kept an ear open.

The remainder of the ride was rushed. Everyone was eager to get back and Sam had the girls recounting what they had seen down to the last detail several times over by the time they returned. Without waiting, Santana told Mercedes to send a call out for all the guards to have an urgent meeting in the kitchen and then promptly told Blaine he was coming.

"You're going to tell us EVERYTHING."

It seemed to make Blaine nervous, though he nodded in compliance.

It was the first time Kurt had ever seen Santana wait around after returning home from a scavenging instead of rushing to find Brittany. Workers came to deliver the specific saddle bags to their intended locations and, individually, the group all kept their own packs affixed to their backs as Santana was leaving them no time to make a run home before this meeting began. Quinn also stuck around, even though she wasn't technically a guard but a worker, arguing that because she hunted so much, the information would be invaluable if she came across one of them again.

Before long, they were in the kitchen, crowded with guards and those who were curious enough to sneak in.

"We saw an Other." Santana announced to the group who quickly fell into chaos with a range of reactions from shocked silence to panicked screams, making Santana have to yell several times to get everyone's attention again.

"It didn't see us. It was eating and then changed into a bird and flew off."

Now the reactions were more hushed, though excited whispers were springing up all around Kurt. It can't be so said some, while others questioned how amazing that would be. Kurt tuned them out, turning his focus back on Santana, standing so firm and dominant at the front of the room with Blaine, meekly aside her, head hung.

"Blaine here knew all about it…. guessed right on what it was and everything. Apparently he knows a shitload more than we do - so he's going to tell us everything he knows…"

Eyes all flocked to Blaine then, who made a nervous little chuckle and looked up. "Well…."

And it began, all mouths shut and heads looking straight to him for the next hour as he talked about the type of magic he'd seen over the years. Changelings that could take the form of an animal, true vampires that lived off the flesh of others and dominated the night, Others who had mastery power over elements like ice or wind, even magic that formed as music or color was described to the best of his ability. Periodically someone would ask a question, though those questions lessened over time as there were something things Blaine simply couldn't explain.

How did they get their magic?  
How do they control it?  
How do you stop it?

Blaine told them about things different groups did to protect themselves. Dogs were brought up again, as well as minimising damage to the local environment - apparently some Others were attracted to sites of destruction. Staying away from major waterways was mentioned - the one thing they already knew, as well as avoiding the underground. Old mines were death traps he explained, claiming that Others had apparently trapped humans in them never to be seen again. Kurt was suddenly quite glad he hadn't ever learned how to mine.

It went on. Blaine described how he had seen a whole army of them marching near what had been Seattle once. He and his ground had to hide for over a day under leaves as they marched by, unable to eat or relieve themselves or even sleep. He had seen the changelings - birds, cats, horses, a unicorn once even.

He told them, that through binoculars of his own, that he had seen one of their vampires tear apart a human man until nothing was left but a splatter on the ground and a pile of bones.

"How are any humans even still alive against things that can do that…." One man uttered quietly - though in the silence that it was spoken in, all could hear him.

"They just don't seem concerned about wiping us completely off the planet…." Blaine said with another shrug, "At least… not yet… there are some humans they even coexist with…. and have children with."

Now there were quite a few gasps, save for Kurt who had already heard about half-breeds. Blaine told them about the small communities where Others and humans lived together and had children. Some people didn't seem to know how to respond to that, while others made retching noises.

"I don't…." Blaine looked at Santana, "... I don't know what else I can tell you…"

Santana nodded and looked out over the group. Technically she wasn't their leader, but right now she was definitely acting like one. "Good. Be prepared for more questions… I'm sure we'll have some later once we are all able to process this."

Murmurs of agreement rose up in the crowd, some of which who were already on their way out while others were staying behind and talking quietly amongst themselves. Blaine looked relieved, his whole demeanor slackening when Kurt peered towards him. Santana had just left him there, used for his information and no longer of any use - at least not for the moment. She had Brittany to run off to now. Quinn left with Noah, the ice between them almost noticeable, and Sam lingered for a bit, probably to see if Mercedes was coming by, before he left.

Kurt took off after Sam, walking with urgency back to his home. What Blaine had said to them all seemed to float to the back of his head, despite being so important. He needed to figure out where he stood with Blaine. Or at least stop thinking about him so constantly that he could get his priorities straight.

The pack was emptied onto his bed and Kurt sorted out the new clothing, razor blades, and soap he had claimed into their places - leaving the small pile of phones and old music players centered on the bed. What secrets would they hold? Who did they belong to? Would they even work still?

Kurt knew he wasn't going to be able to find out without Blaine's help, so they got swept to the side as he laid himself in bed, quite happy to drown out his thoughts with sleep.

Dreams of dancing again. Dreams of unfettered joy. Dreams of… footsteps?

No, those were real.

Without opening his eyes, he woke, and focused on the unfamiliar footfalls. Too light to be an adults… or at least an adult human. One of his hands had fallen behind the pelts in his sleep and he balled it into a fist, just in case.

"Mr. Hummel?"

His eyes snapped open and he sat upright slowly, seeing young Beth there, pink flannel pyjamas stuffed into oversized boots and her dark blonde curls pulled into two pigtails. Her brown eyes set on Kurt.

"Beth. What are you doing here?"

Her forehead wrinkled and Kurt noticed then the teddy bear she held in her hands that she was fidgeting with, "Well…. Mom and Dad are fighting."

Kurt sighed and held out his arms to the young girls, finding them rapidly filled with her body as she climbed up into the bed and into his lap, curling up against him. Even though he had just hugged her the other day, it was an all too otherworldly feeling. She had definitely grown quite a bit since she had last sat in his lap like this.

"Is it scaring you?" He asked, making small circles on her back with his hand to try and soothe her.

"Hmm? No… they fight lots… I'm used to it."

"Then why are you here Beth? Don't you think they'll worry if they can't find you?"

She shrugged in his arms, "It's not the fighting that bugs me."

"Then what is it?"

She looked up at him, eyes so serious now, "It's what they do AFTER they fight that bugs me."

"Huh?"

"Y'know…" She wrinkled up her nose at the thought and whispered towards him, "The ADULT stuff that makes 'em happy again."

Adult stuff…. Kurt thought and then a shock of realization hit him, a blush along with it. Beth was old enough now to understand what sex was. Oh god…

She seemed to find his embarrassment amusing, chuckling softly at his reaction, "They won't notice me gone until morning. It okay if I just stay here for awhile so I don't have to listen to 'em?"

Kurt just nodded. They would no doubt be furious with him if they noticed her gone and with him, but he could deal with that. What he couldn't deal with was walking in on them in the moment to return Beth home.

"What're those?" Beth asked of him then, pointing towards the pile of electronics at the end of the bed.

"Ah… well… remnants of the past. Blaine and I are going to see if we can do anything with them."

"Blaine….?"

Kurt racked his brains. Beth had always been taught certain manners, including to always call adults by their last names. It was really a silly practice in this time and place as last names were only ever useful if there were two or more people with the same first name. What was bothering Kurt though was that he actually didn't know Blaine's last name.

"The guy who lives beside me… the one who came with his friend who's in the clinic.." Kurt offered as a means of explanation.

"Oh. You mean Mr. Anderson."

Blaine Anderson. It definitely fit him.

She wasn't helping Kurt not think about him though.

"Right. Anyhow… if they work, I'll show you what they can do. You'll be amazed."

"If you say so Mr. Hummel." Beth crawled out of his lap then and into the space in his bed beside him. Funny how he could be so comfortable with her there but not Blaine he thought to himself as he watched her pull a blanket up and over herself. "Can you sing to me?"

"I haven't sung to you since you were so much smaller Beth…"

"Please?"

He had a really hard time saying no to those brown eyes, and his mouth was opening before his brain could say no.

_You could be my unintended  
Choice to live my life extended  
You could be the one I'll always love  
You could be the one who listens to my deepest inquisitions  
You could be the one I'll always love_

It was a song off one of the phones Blaine had, one that had burrowed into his mind despite not being something he might have listened to in his life before The Tides. Why it came to him now was not something he would have been able to answer. He watched Beth smile up at him and close her eyes, letting herself become immersed in the song not unlike how he did when he had one of the phones there to listen to.

_I'll be there as soon as I can  
But I'm busy mending broken pieces of the life I had before  
First there was the one who challenged  
All my dreams and all my balance  
She could never be as good as you_

"S'nice." Beth murmured while Kurt sang. "Haven't heard this one 'fore."

_You could be my unintended  
Choice to live my life extended  
You should be the one I'll always love  
I'll be there as soon as I can  
But I'm busy mending broken pieces of the life I had before_

He heard Blaine's footsteps outside then, but kept on singing to Beth, watching her body relax and drift off. He had probably either woken or, unintentionally, drawn Blaine's interest by singing.

_I'll be there as soon as I can  
But I'm busy mending broken pieces of the life I had before  
Before you_

When Blaine came in, slowly opening the door, Kurt put a finger up to his lips and made a nod towards the sleeping little girl in his bed. A small o formed on Blaine's lips - quickly understanding why Kurt must have been singing so openly. He slipped out from the bed and crept towards Blaine, whispering, "Her parents were fighting."

"Poor thing." Blaine whispered back, looking over Kurt's shoulder at Beth before looking back to Kurt. "Your voice…"

"Yeah… sorry. I used to sing her to sleep when she was a tot and she wanted it again. Rough I know."

Blaine quickly shook his head. "No. Amazing… Brilliant… Gorgeous. Definitely not rough."

The ground became instantly interesting to Kurt as he glanced down. It was bad enough Blaine was so gracious about his singing voice… but that word again - gorgeous. All at once the memories of two nights past hit him and he curled his arms around his stomach to try and calm the butterflies fluttering about within him.

"Thanks."

"Do you want me to maybe… let her parents know she's here?"

Kurt glanced back at Beth. It might be a good idea to allay any possible worries they might have.

"Sure… but if they sound like they're… ah…" He should be able to say the word dammit, Kurt thought to himself. He had done it himself now after all. "... ah… intimate… just leave a note under their door."

Blaine's bushy eyebrows crept up his forehead at that, but he nodded and turned to leave without further question, allowing Kurt to breath in his relief and return to the small girl in his bed to cuddle.

Why was cuddling a little girl so much easier than snuggling a grown man he had had sex with?

Why did he think these things when he had a little girl in his bed? Did that make him some kind of pervert?

Kurt just sighed and tried to put it out of his thoughts, trying to focus on falling back asleep. Like anytime one tries to focus on sleeping though, it didn't come easily, and he didn't manage to fall back asleep until well after he heard Blaine's footsteps outside on the return to his home after going into town.

His dreams returned him to his fantasy life. In this iteration he was in a full tuxedo, exceptionally crafted and fitting him like a glove. He stood on a stage, holding an award, and thanking a faceless crowd of people before him. He didn't know what the award was for but he seemed quite pleased to be receiving it. As he exited the stage, the faceless people all stood for him, their clapping continuing. Kurt had the feeling that something terrible was about to happen, and sure enough the faceless people all began to melt in front of him. He screamed, but nothing came out of his mouth, and tried to run but found his feet locked in place. He was trapped and voiceless and so completely terrified.

Then there was a glittering light above him and front it a bird slowly flew down, landing before him and morphing into the Other woman from his real existence.

He opened his mouth again to scream, and again, nothing.

She looked him over as she stood. So much taller than he was, and even though she was a female, even he could not deny her beauty.

"Oh Kurt…" She spoke, reaching out and stroking long fingers through his hair, "You know it couldn't last."

Her touch warmed him, warmed his vocal chords, and he found himself able to speak. "What?"

"Your happiness."

He looked around her, at the analogous blobs of what had been the audience, steaming piles of gray now, and then back to her. "Why not?"

"You're not supposed to be happy."

"Why can't I?"

She smirked, and those crystalline eyes of her suddenly glinted, fire raging within them as they turned red. In one sharp move her hand retreated from his hair and shot into his chest. He gasped as he felt cold fingers wrap around his heart from the inside.

"Because that's not your purpose."

That was when Kurt woke up, panting and gasping for air, his hands reaching to his chest to make sure it was all intact as he lingered between his dreams and consciousness for a few moments. When he was sure he was fine, he looked over at Beth, still asleep beside him and breathed relief that he hadn't woken her with his stupid dream… nightmare?

His hands remained over his heart protectively as he laid himself back and caught his breath. He had thought the intense dreams he had of Blaine were bad, but they were nothing like that. So real and frightening.

It had to have been not only seeing his first Other, but hearing Blaine speak to the guards about Others that caused that dream. Usually his dreams were a welcome escape into a fantasy where he didn't have to worry about anything but enjoying himself, not a hellish horror scene.

Whatever the case, Kurt couldn't get himself back to sleep after that, and just let himself be used as Beth's cuddle pillow for the duration of the night while he stared up at his ceiling wondering how a dream could make him so unsure about his ability to be happy.


	12. Chapter 11: Forgiveness

"_**Ocean: A body of water occupying about two-thirds of a world made for man - who has no gills." - Ambrose Bierce**_

"Thanks for watching her man! You're a pal!" Noah said, taking his daughter by the hand and actually waving to Kurt as if he were a friend.

"Yeah… no problem…" Kurt muttered, then gritted his teeth and hissed out to the side and out of earshot, "Since you abandoned her all fucking day…."

Noah and Quinn hadn't come to pick up Beth that morning, so Kurt had walked her back into town, expecting to be able to go hunting afterwards. He was greeted though with a note stuck to the door of their apartment.

"Thanks for the day off Kurt! We'll use it well!" - Noah

Somewhere, something had been miscommunicated and Kurt ended up having Beth with him all day while Quinn and Noah took the day off to to god knew what together. If Kurt hadn't needed to check his traps after being gone those few days and hunt so he had his own private store of food, he might have not minded. It also didn't help that he had no idea what to do with an eight year old girl all day long. It was one thing to watch her for the night when all that was expected was telling her stories and singing her lullabies - it was another thing entirely to try and figure out what they should do all day.

Thank goodness for Blaine.

Kurt had been in the process of trying to figure out what Beth could do for the day, since there was no school every seventh day, when Blaine had stopped by to see if Kurt was interested in finding and taming one of the wild dogs in the area.

"No. I'm busy." Kurt snapped impatiently. He didn't have time to entertain having another small creature in his home.

"I do!" Beth yelled and scooted past Kurt to grab hold of Blaine by the hand. He went wide eyed at the little girl's sudden grasp, then warmed and knelt before her.

"You like dogs?"

She nodded rapidly and looked back to Kurt, eyes bulging and begging, "PLEASE Mr. Hummel? Please can I go with Mr. Anderson?"

Kurt exhaled and nodded, the stress flooding out of him as Blaine and Beth walked off together allowing Kurt to tend to his old snares and traplines for the morning before returning home to skin and prepare the animal meat. When he heard the pair returning, he stepped outside and saw they were not alone.

"I don't really know how I feel about having a dog nearby Blaine… it might scare off the other animals." Kurt said, though he dropped down to squat and pet the black labrador cross he had met earlier on in the week who nudged her head into his hand, silently requesting more of the same.

"Nah… besides, she's a total sweetheart and Beth here came up with a great name for her."

"Pudding!"

Kurt shook his head and just held in his laugh as best as he could, though his mouth curled up into a smile as he regarded the dog before him. "Pudding huh?"

Beth dropped to her knees and, without any concern about the dog's reaction, wrapped her arms around Pudding to snuggle her. "Yes, and Mr. Anderson says I can visit her whenever I want and even have one of the puppies if my mom and dad let me!"

"Puppies…?" Kurt glanced up, expression now cold as he looked towards Blaine who deftly avoided eye contact with him.

"Oh yes!" Beth exclaimed, clearly oblivious to the sudden division between the two men. "Mr. Anderson said she's full of puppies and in a few weeks she'll have them and I can come see them get bigger and then when they're done with their mom's milk I can have one…. if my parents say I can."

"Well…" Kurt looked back to Beth, letting his expression soften for her benefit, "I hope you can have one. They're a big responsibility though you know."

Again she nodded quickly, "Oh yes. I have to feed the puppy and train the puppy to do its business outside and make sure to give it lots of pettings and brushings."

Kurt stood up, ignoring the dog's insistent nudges into his hands for more affection, "Yes, and your parents will probably expect you to take full responsibility of any puppy if you get one." He glanced back at Blaine then, "They're not going to do the work for you if you get bored of it."

Again, Blaine looked away, a blush creeping over his cheeks and Kurt looked back again to Beth who was already stating that she would be "the most responsible-est girl ever" if she got a puppy.

She also said she would name a puppy Cookie because those were also tasty.

Kurt had Beth read to him while he made himself new arrows that day, had her help him oil a hide he was working on tanning, and supervised her tree climbing - which she was all too good at. They went into town for their meals, but, as always, came back with their food to eat it at the shack.

It was during supper that Beth looked at the small pile of electronics that still sat on Kurt's pelt bed and inquired, "When is Mr. Anderson gonna do something with those so you can show me why they're a big deal?"

"I have to give them to him first."

"Then you should do that."

Kurt sighed, "I should."

It was one thing to be around Blaine in a group or with Beth, but he knew being around him alone was going to be uncomfortable. He was also unsure about how Blaine might react finding out that Kurt had been grabbing the phones and music players that Blaine had decided to leave behind. Would he see it as some grand gesture? Would he be irritated that Kurt did something he felt he wasn't permitted to do? Would he read too much into it?

He just wanted more music to listen to, Kurt told himself. Unfortunately, he needed Blaine for that so Kurt was going to have to get those electronics to Blaine at some point and face whatever reaction came of it. He just needed a bit more time to mentally prepare for those potential outcomes. Roleplay in his mind what he could and would say depending on how Blaine reacted. If Blaine got upset, Kurt could be snappy right back. If he thought Kurt was bringing him gifts to make up for his earlier freak out, well than Kurt had no problem telling him where to go. He could handle it.

So after Noah took Beth, Kurt gathered up the phones and music players and went over to Blaine's hut - which more and more was resembling an actual cabin as Blaine improved it - and knocked on the door.

"Come in Kurt." Blaine beckoned from inside and as Kurt stepped in, Blaine sat up. He had been reclining on his mattress and reading a weathered copy of a book Kurt didn't recognize offhand. The dog, Pudding, was curled up in the bed right beside where Blaine had been laying. She perked her head up and looked at Kurt curiously as he entered, tail wagging instantaneously.

"How'd you…?"

"No one else visits me. I guessed." Blaine said with a lopsided grin as he set the book to the side. "What's up?"

Kurt held out his handfuls of electronics, "Here."

"Oh…" Blaine held his breath for a moment and then, upon recognizing that they were actually for him to take, put out his own hands and accepted the pile. "These… were from the trip?"

Kurt just nodded while Blaine turned and set them down on his mattress, lining them all out one by one and then grabbing one of the solar chargers away from where it had been charging one of the old phones during the day and plugging it into one of the new ones. "They don't all have the same kind of adapter-plug-thing…. but maybe on another trip we could see if we could find cords that fit the other ones…."

"Oh…. okay." Kurt hadn't even thought to consider the different sized holes on the sides of them all. Really, being the community mechanic, he should have figured that out on his own he thought to himself, but it must have just been the lack of sleep over the past couple days that made him not consider it.

"Once I see if it'll still accept power and if it has anything of interest on it, then I'll let you listen…." Blaine said, suddenly quite involved in looking over each phone and player, rubbing the edges with a finger and examining the different ports on them all.

Kurt didn't know how to respond to this. He had thought Blaine would have had reacted… more. He had planned for angry or utterly giddy or extremely happy, but the simplicity of Blaine's acceptance of Kurt's getting him the phones didn't seem right. In fact, it was irritating.

"So… what? No thank you or anything?"

Blaine's head jerked away from the white metal rectangle he was investigating and looked at Kurt, big eyebrows squished together in a bunch on his forehead, "What?"

"I said, aren't you going to thank me for getting those for you." Kurt hissed between his teeth.

Blaine glanced from Kurt, to the phone in his hand and then back up. "Thank… you? Kurt, did you get these for me or for you?"

"Well for you obviously! It's not like I have a freaking thing that charges them up!"

Blaine's mouth opened, though nothing came out as he continued to regard Kurt with clouding eyes. It took a huff from Kurt to re engage Blaine who held the phone back to Kurt then. "Take it back then."

"What?!" Kurt put his palms out towards the offering, "No! Why?"

"Kurt. I don't want a gift if you're going to freak out like this over it… especially not after what happened…."

Kurt's jaw clenched shut and his hands found themselves dropping to his sides in balls of fist as he looked away and towards Blaine's fire. All at once he felt both incredibly heavy and light in the heart, his mind racing as he tried to figure out how to respond to this. He had screwed up. He hadn't planned for this and now he looked like an absolute idiot.

Again Blaine held out the phone, "Take them back Kurt. I can't… I don't mind charging them up and helping you figure out how to use them… but I can't accept them as a gift."

He glanced at the phone in Blaine's outstretched hand. He couldn't take it back. It was useless to him without Blaine's help - a paperweight with no paper to hold down. A constant reminder of his failed attempt at intimacy in that town he knew he'd forever refuse to scavenge in again.

Kurt wanted the music. He needed it. He needed to feel like he had done something good and he had been convinced he had, at least until this point. He needed to make things right somehow.

"Kurt…" Blaine took a step forward, still holding the phone and trying to get Kurt to take it back, but Kurt stepped back when Blaine stepped forward.

"No…. it's… Just take them."

A sigh then, and Blaine lowered his hand, "Fine. Thank you then."

Kurt raised his eyes then, looking at Blaine who was, once again, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned around to set the phone back on his mattress.

"You're welcome."

Blaine shook his head as he looked over the electronics. "Why'd you get them Kurt? Did you think you were doing me a favour… or….?"

"Because I wanted more music to listen to."

"Right. Okay then. I get it now."

Kurt pressed his lips together tightly and curled his toes inside his boots. "What do you mean… you get it now. Get what exactly?"

"This!" Blaine swept an arm over the electronics, looking back at Kurt, "It was just about you."

"Well…." Kurt stopped before he said something that he would regret and plucked at the edges of his coat as he thought. How did he get into this? Why was he even still at Blaine's entertaining this argument for that matter?

"Don't worry about it Kurt. I'll charge them up and get the music to you as soon as possible." Blaine snapped, glancing back to the electronics as spots of colour touched his cheekbones.

"Good." Kurt replied, just as hard and cold as Blaine had just been and pushed the door open. "Thank you."

The cold bit Kurt as soon as he stepped outside, and he pulled his arms around himself as he made the short walk back to his shabby hut. He hadn't propped anything up against the door when he had left earlier, so the wind was flipping it back and forth as it spun around and tossed snow up into the air from the ground.

He really needed to fix that.

That night again he slept poorly, tossing and turning and even waking with a start several times when the wind blew so hard it made sharp whistling noises. He was glad for morning, and the calm in the weather it seemed to bring, even though he was once again too tired and now completely irritated with Blaine's behaviour the previous evening.

Free to do what he wanted once again, Kurt went on a hunt all morning and didn't return until he was due to start a patrolling shift in the afternoon. The hunt was a complete waste and Kurt had returned empty handed for the first time in months. Still, it got him time away to clear his head and just be alone.

When he went to collect his dinner after his shift, Blaine stepped up behind him and stiffly said, "I've got two ready." before leaving him there, alone again. It wasn't just alone this time though, it was more. He hadn't imposed it on himself, and because of that, Kurt ached. He watched Blaine leave the kitchen and before he knew what he was doing, he had grabbed his food and run after the curly haired man to catch up with him down the community street as he walked back to their respective homes.

Blaine didn't acknowledge him.

"Did you listen to what was on them?" Kurt prompted, noting that he had to quicken his own pace to keep up.

"No. I said you'd get first listen. There are music files on both of them though."

Kurt kept walking, so quickly even for him, and kept stealing glances over at Blaine who was unusually focused on what was ahead of him as he walked.

"How's Trent?"

Blaine pressed his lips together tightly and snuck a sideways glance at Kurt, brows arches just slightly before he returned his gaze forward, "Fine."

"Blaine…"

"Why are you asking Kurt?"

Kurt stopped in his tracks, letting Blaine continue to walk for a couple moments until he seemed to realize that Kurt was no longer trying to keep up and stopped himself, looking back to the chestnut haired man.

"Why am I asking? I've asked since day one Blaine!"

Blaine spread his arms out to either side as he turned to face Kurt. "But why? How does it benefit you?"

Kurt wavered, his lips fluttering for a moment as he tried to find the right way to respond, but the sourness in his stomach that had quickly evolved blended with the heat on the back of his neck didn't help him think. "It… doesn't. I just do it."

"So you care about him, but not me."

Kurt's eyes snapped up to meet Blaine's, "What? Blaine…."

"Nevermind. Forget I said it." Blaine groaned, turning himself around again to continue his walk away.

"No!" Kurt strode after Blaine, just as intently as before. "Stop. You don't get to just walk away so you can have the last word!"

"Really Kurt? You think THAT'S why I'm walking away?" Blaine huffed, still keeping pace even though Kurt could now see the beads of sweat on the back of his neck.

"No. I think you're walking away because you're a hypocrite! You call me immature when I freak out and now, here you are, doing the same damned thing."

Blaine stopped again, breathing in deeply though not turning or looking back at Kurt, focusing instead on the snow before him on the ground.

Kurt took the opportunity, rounding up in front of Blaine. "I think you think it's easier to think that I'm completely self absorbed and that's why I freaked out about what we did. You think it's my issue."

"I never said that Kurt…" Blaine murmured weakly, though kept himself from making eye contact.

"You didn't have to. Look at how you're acting! How dare you tell me to be civil when you're not!"

"You're the one who had a tantrum over me saying thank you over a gift I didn't know was a gift!" Blaine spat, finally looking up with fire in his eyes.

"Oh please! That was hardly a tantrum. It was a fucking miscommunication! Get over it!"

"Fine. Done. Now get out of my way."

Kurt held his ground, "No. Walk around me."

Blaine rolled his eyes and stepped around Kurt who stood there for a moment before once again turning and trailing after Blaine, "Why'd you do that?"

Blaine didn't look at Kurt. "Because you told me to."

"You should have argued it."

"Honestly Kurt!" Blaine stopped in place again and cried out to the night sky above them before looking back to him. "What the hell do you want? You tell me to do one thing and then expect another? You want me to argue with you over moving?"

"No… yes….. fuck!" Kurt kicked some snow by his feet, sending a spray of white out in the air around him. "You shouldn't be such a pushover….."

"I wasn't trying to be. I didn't see the point in fighting over it and I wanted to get to bed."

"Then just… go. Fuck."

Blaine hesitated in place for a moment, watching Kurt as Kurt watched the flakes of snow slowly fall back into place around him before he again left Kurt there. Standing there for several minutes, Kurt just let the night blanket him in quiet, trying to figure himself out and what had come over him.

He had acted miserably just then, and for no fathomable reason he could muster. He was absolutely immature, vile, and yes, uncivil. Blaine had been right to call him on it.

"_So you care about him, but not me."_

The words rung through Kurt's ears even though Blaine was long gone. Blaine thought Kurt didn't care about him.

Did he care?

Kurt picked up his feet and walked back to his home, pointedly ignoring the cracks of light coming from Blaine's cabin and the bark of Pudding inside it as he trudged into his hut.

If he didn't care, he wouldn't have helped, or put up with Blaine for that matter. He wouldn't have bothered talking to him. Maybe he just didn't care about Blaine the way Blaine expected. Which meant that Blaine expected more.

Which meant that when Blaine said it was okay if Kurt didn't reciprocate his feelings the other day, he was lying. Clearly it wasn't okay.

Collapsing into the bed without taking off his jacket, Kurt let loose a groan into the pelts of his bed. Frustration didn't even begin to describe how he felt, but he knew what would solve it. After getting back up, he heated up some snow water in his pot over the fire and added some leaves from his herb collection - chamomile. Thank goodness for those wilderness survival books he had stumbled on years ago because they had helped him identify so many plants that were edible and had other uses.

When his tea was ready, he drank it slowly and then laid back in his bed. He needed to sleep. He needed a clear head that didn't have him stumbling around Blaine like a fool so he could deal with whatever misunderstandings they were having.

The drink did help, and Kurt was out faster than he had been in days. Dreams of hunting were followed by dreams of flying, and then…

Darkness. All around him and nothing else. No smells, no sounds, nothing to see or feel, and he couldn't move again. His legs wouldn't do what he wanted them to do. He was stuck in place. Trying to call out to see if there was anyone around, he found his voice gone again, just as it had been in the dream two nights ago. He panicked and flailed and felt the fear take him over. He couldn't escape, but he needed to, and no one was around.

"Oh Kurt…. just accept it."

Her again. She faded into view from within the darkness. That Other woman again with her blue hair bound all around her body and leaving a trail of feathers along the path she walked to get to him.

"You can't be free."

He struggled in spot again, trying so hard to move. His heart. He couldn't let her get his heart. His mouth kept opening, and it felt like he was screaming, but he couldn't hear the sound.

"Stop fighting it."

One of her eerily long fingers reached under his chin and tipped his face up so he was looking up at her. Again he tried to scream, but the sound wouldn't come.

"Stop."

He felt the cold press of her finger into the soft spot in the center of his jaw and then, just as quickly as she had tore into his chest, she stabbed upwards with her finger into his head and up into his skull. He felt burning, and trying to yell again he couldn't even move his mouth. His eyes still worked, his brain too for that matter. All he could do now was look upon her and feel his fear.

"Kurt….."

Her voice deepened.

"Kurt!"

No. It wasn't her voice….

"KURT! Wake up!"

His eyes snapped apart and his hands reached up right away to feel his chin and neck, to make sure he truly hadn't been stabbed in the head by the finger of an Other. He was shaking, covered in his own sweat, and his throat hurt for some inexplicable reason.

And Blaine was standing beside his bed, door open behind him with Pudding sitting in the entryway with her head cocked to one side as she looked at him. His eyes were strained as he looked over Kurt, and Kurt could hear his breaths coming just as quickly as Kurt's were.

"What? Why are you here?"

"You were screaming… howling more like it…." Blaine explained, his eyebrows drawing together.

"Bad dream." Kurt explained cooly, glancing down at his hands and flexing out his fingers. His palms had imprints of his own fingernails from where he must have been clenching his fists in his sleep.

"You have a lot of bad dreams…."

Kurt looked up again at Blaine, whose worry still hadn't left his face. "What are you talking about? This time and one other…."

"No. When we slept together you were fitful the whole time… and I had to hold you close to get you to settle… and I hear you screaming out regularly at night… just… never so constant as it was tonight… I thought someone was killing you and Pudding was freaking out and barking up a storm everytime you wailed."

Kurt looked back down at his hands and fiddled with his blanket. SomeTHING had been killing him… at least in his dreams.

"I'm sorry Kurt…."

Kurt sighed, "It's not your fault Blaine. I just… I've never really slept well."

"Not about that… Well I am, but it's not what I was talking about. I'm sorry about earlier. I was being a jerk."

Kurt looked back up, "So was I."

Blaine smiled weakly, "Do you want Pudding to sleep with you? Or maybe one of the phones to listen to?"

Kurt shook his head slowly and sighed once more. "Thanks… for waking me."

"Was it that bad? Do you want to talk about it?"

Another shake of his head, "No. It was just a dream. Nothing to analyze but my own inability to get my head out of my ass when it comes to getting a proper nights sleep."

Without invitation, Blaine sat on the edge of Kurt's bed, glancing to Kurt's hands just as Kurt was. "I remember getting bad dreams right after The Tides… nightmares about seeing my parents and my brother get swept away in those first waves… or worse."

"What could be worse….?"

"The first time we stumbled across a group of Others… they were piling up human corpses…. We watched them from where we were hidden in a farmer's shed… body after body… each one more torn apart than the last…."

"Jesus… what did they do to them?"

Blaine shook his head, "I don't know. I don't know. It was like one of those awful horror movies I used to watch and laugh at with my buddies when I was younger… but real. So real. I still see them sometimes… and sometimes I see my family in along with them."

Kurt shook his head, disbelief at such a scene clouding through his head, "I… miss my family. So badly… but I'm glad I know how they went… That it wasn't because of them."

Blaine nodded and let the silence hang between them as they listened to each other's breathing for the moment. Pudding invited herself up on the bed, jumping up in one fluid movement and laying at Kurt's feet, head tucked between her forepaws.

"Oh… no… Pudding… this isn't your bed." Kurt shook his head with a smirk, "I can't believe you let her name the dog Pudding. It's ridiculous."

Blaine smiled and reached over to rub the labrador between the ears, "It made her happy and I don't mind calling it out in the middle of the night if I need to. Pudding here doesn't seem to mind it either."

Kurt couldn't help but uncurl his toes under the warmth of the dog laying atop them. She was definitely warm, and now that she was resting, Kurt could see the slight bulge in her stomach. "Those puppies will be popular if what you said is true about dogs and Others."

Blaine nodded, "I know…. and it is true. Like I also said, if the Warbler's weren't nomadic, we'd have dogs of our own too."

"Why do you all travel? Why not settle in one place?"

Blaine shrugged, "It's just what we've always done."

"Wouldn't it be easier to have a home?"

Blaine glanced up, looking at Kurt curiously, "Everyday I hear you and watch you get up and do things in the exact same order. Wash, exchange your bottles, eat, hunt, patrol, take your meals back here, spend your evenings making arrows or reading, try to sleep, repeat. You don't get to question me about breaking habits."

Kurt's mouth went slack and he looked away - at a total loss for words. Blaine did have a point, but what had Kurt tense was that Blaine had admitted to being completely aware of Kurt's idiosyncrasies. It would have been endearing if it wasn't so… creepy.

Blaine exhaled, "Anyhow… it's been suggested before that we settle down, but there's so many different opinions in the group about where to do it or if we should do it that we've never ended up doing it in the end."

Kurt looked back then, "Then why don't you all just go your own ways?"

Blaine frowned, "Because… we've been together for ten years… "

"So? You seem to be doing well enough away from them right now."

"But…. only because I know I'm going to see them again… and I I have Trent."

Kurt didn't know why he said what came out of him next, but did know that he regretted it the instant it came out of his lips.

"But Trent isn't going to be able to go back with you when you leave."

He held his breath, watching Blaine as he clenched his eyes shut and gripped the edge of the pelts with white knuckles.

"I know…"

Kurt's eyebrows perked up, "You know?"

Blaine nodded, "His leg is so messed up…. and he's already talking about Kitty in that way that you know, even if he doesn't, that he wouldn't be able to leave her. God I'm going to miss him. We've been buddies since the beginning…"

What was that like, Kurt wondered, to have a best friend. All his favourite stories included a best friend character. Someone who supported the protagonist but still told them when they were being a fool.

"I'm still in disbelief over Kitty taking a shine to him… she has always been so… antagonistic to everyone."

Blaine chuckled and nodded once, "I still don't know if I should tell him about that scene she made with me when you were there that one day… I think she was trying to mess with me."

Or me, Kurt noted to himself. "Don't bother. She was probably testing your friendship quality. It's pretty clear she likes him…"

Blaine nodded and then looked back up towards Kurt, "When I go… will you please make sure he's okay? Just… make sure Kitty is treating him like he deserves and that he's happy?"

Kurt nodded absently, getting lost in pools of honey that were so deep in that moment he could drown. He wasn't sure what he could do if Trent was unhappy, but he knew he didn't want Blaine to worry.

Why though?

"I'm going to give Trent the first choice of puppies…" Blaine started, looking towards Pudding then, whose tail beat against the bed in heavy thuds as she saw Blaine's eyes on her, "... so he always has someone there for him no matter what."

"What about Pudding? When you go…"

Blaine glanced from the dog to Kurt, "Well… would you take care of her?"

Kurt wrinkled up his brow and looked at the dog on his feet. He didn't want to have to share his food, or mediocre space, with anyone else, let alone something that was going to leave hair all over him and stink up the place.

"Please?"

Kurt glanced back towards Blaine, who was so much more effective at puppy dog eyes than the damned dog was.

"Okay…"

That made Blaine smile, and the fact that Kurt had just agreed to take on a dependant was suddenly worth it to see that smile. He shook his head and glanced back down at his hands as he let loose a chuckle. "God...of all the things I thought I'd never do…"

"You never thought you'd have a pet?"

Kurt shook his head, "No. Dad was allergic to dogs. He liked them and always stopped to pet them, but his eyes would be watering for hours afterwards. We could have never had a dog."

"But…." Blaine started, but stopped just as quickly.

But Burt was dead, and had been for eight years Kurt finished off for him internally. It didn't matter, some habits really died hard even when someone had died.

"It's okay." Kurt said, looking up from his hands towards the other man, "Maybe I do need to break up the monotony a little and adjust my habits. For example, I could add 'feed the dog' to my list of things I do every day in sequence."

Blaine smiled and nodded, "She'll be good for you… someone who'll always be there for you… I know you don't always get along with other people, so maybe a dog instead?"

"Maybe…"

"Kurt?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you…. for the phones."

Kurt regarded Blaine for a moment, who in turn ducked his head down a little, peering back at Kurt through a veil of too thick black lashes. "You already said thank you…."

"But I want you to know I mean it."

"You're welcome…."

"I'm sorry too… for earlier tonight…"

Kurt nodded, then let one of his hands move up and settle on one of Blaine's. Both men jerked a little from the touch, but neither pulled away. "So am I. I don't know… why I get like that… but I am sorry."

"Forgiven.." Blaine murmured, looking at Kurt's hand atop his in wonder before raising his eyes to meet Kurt's, "You've got to know I forgive you…"

A tightness overcame Kurt's heart, so intense that he had to take in a deep breath to help steady himself even though he was sitting. He should have pulled his hand back, but it seemed frozen in place and the heat from Blaine's hand was travelling up Kurt's arm and seemed to be making his throat tighten such that he could feel his pulse within his neck.

"I don't understand why…"

"I told you why…." Blaine uttered, letting his hand roll under Kurt's until they were connected by their palms and Blaine's fingers wrapped around Kurt's hand. He was holding his hand. Kurt's hand… was held by Blaine's.

Kurt stared at the physical connection, ignoring for the moment the tingling sensation drifting through his hand and up into his arm until it reached his heart where his pulse was quickening. He had seen people holding hands, read about it in books, heard it in the lyrics of songs… but felt it? Not since his father had died, and this connection was so very different than his father's grasp. It was softer somehow, and more balanced. His father's hand had always been so much bigger and rougher than his, while Blaine's hand fit with his own.

"... because you like me…."

Blaine nodded. He was still looking at Kurt's hand, held gently in his own, avoiding Kurt's eyes when Kurt looked up to Blaine's face.

"I don't understand why." Kurt asked then. Now he was feeling the tingling, revelling in how it seemed to warm not only his held hand, but the arm it was connected to and the heart it was reaching into.

Blaine looked up then, face flushed and eyes glossy as he looked at Kurt so intently that Kurt had to look away because it felt like Blaine was peering into his soul - if he even had a soul. Blaine's voice was soft when he started talking, and Kurt's eyes fell on Blaine's lips which kept pressing together and being licked by his tongue when he paused.

"You're… just…. gorgeous… but I know I've told you that… and beyond that…. you're different. Not in a bad way, but you challenge me. You make me think. You like music… you don't think it's a waste of space… and your voice is just to die for! You take care of others and even if your level of self sacrifice for others is a little bit over the top… it's just rare to see that generosity anymore in people…. You're intelligent. I mean… you read and try to figure out how to do things on your own so you don't need to rely on anyone else. You've got this sense of humor that I know you don't let out too much, but it's dry and quirky and…."

Kurt flushed up as Blaine rambled on about all the things he thought made Kurt attractive. Things that Kurt had always seen as boring or flawed. He hung on every word though, eating up Blaine's dialogue and finding himself starving for more. His mind carried him back to dreams of being with another man, and in each picture, Blaine was now that other man - kissing him, romancing him, dancing with him…

He looked down at their interlocked hands again, and found his thumb running a path up and down the back of Blaine's hand, timed to the beat of his heart. Each stroke brought a shiver up his arm, but instead of it being cold and unwanted, it was actually spreading out a sensation of pleasure.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Kurt pulled his hand back, his body instantly aching and telling him to close that gap between their bodies again. He ignored it and turned his eyes away from Blaine, "You should probably… go back to your place to sleep while there's time before dawn."

He didn't see Blaine's face as he said it, but did hear the choked sound that came before Blaine's acceptance, "Alright. Sleep well." Then the slight lift of the pelt bed around him as Blaine stood up, snapped his fingers for Pudding, and left with the dog rushing after him and leaving Kurt's feet cool again.

It was for the best.

Still, Kurt couldn't get his heart to settle when he laid back in his bed. It pounded up against his ribcage and then back down into the bed, trying to escape Kurt who was clearly insane to let Blaine go so easily. Everytime Kurt shut his eyes, trying to get back to sleep, the lids of his eyes seemed to be filled with images of Blaine so that he had to snap his eyes back up and stare at the ceiling. Where Blaine's hand had touched his, the warmth and tingle would not fade, only increased in intensity so that he was flexing it in the hopes that would rid him of the sensation.

His body was being a traitorous asshole.

Eventually Kurt gave up on sleeping and started going through his morning routine. If he couldn't get Blaine out of his head, then he could at least preoccupy himself with something to distract himself. That worked until it came time to wash himself and the rub of his worn cloth against his chest made him shudder and flash back to Blaine's lips across his nipple.

Is this what his father meant, all those years ago when they had that very awkward conversation about sex? Once he started, he wouldn't be able to stop… Was he going through withdrawal? Did Blaine's sweet words tease his body like the smell of cigarettes did to those who smoked years ago?

Whatever the cause, Kurt tossed his rag back into the pot and then took the pot off the heat before pulling his jacket on over his bare chest. He stormed over to the nearby cabin and pushed the door open without knocking. Blaine was up, sitting in bed with a book and Pudding at his feet.

"Out Pudding." Kurt commanded, snapping his fingers towards the outside. Surprisingly, the dog complied - hopping off the mattress and trotting outside without question. Kurt pulled the door closed and met Blaine's confused eyes.

"Kurt… what…?"

"Did you really mean all that?"

"What?"

"What you said earlier… about me…"

Blaine nodded. His own eyes were dark around the edges of the skin, especially so under his eyes where they were also bagged. He also hadn't been able to sleep.

Kurt let the jacket slip back then, revealing his bare torso he hadn't bothered to redress and watching as Blaine's eyes bulged at the sight before him before averting his eyes, "What… why…. Kurt?"

Kurt didn't bother to vocalize his reply, walking up to Blaine's bedside while unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down the zipper as he peeled off his pants next, the boots having to be discarded along with them since his pants wouldn't slide overtop of them.

Blaine's head slowly turned back, and Kurt could hear the change in his breathing as it became heavier and slower once it settled back on the sight of Kurt's skin, staring so steadily at Kurt's torso.

"You can tell me to stop…." Kurt murmured as he crawled into the bed, pulling up the edge of the blanket and creeping in aside Blaine.

Blaine let the book fall from his hands and then he pushed it to the side so that it fell over the edge of the mattress and onto the floor. Kurt watched then as he pulled his own shirt off, revealing that toned chest and abdomen which Kurt took a hand to immediately. That hair, which he, for whatever reason, was unable to grow himself, tried to curl around Kurt's fingers as he brushed his hand down Blaine's chest and abdomen. He felt the hard ripple of muscle beneath it, and the hint of skin that might be smooth had it not been covered with fur.

Blaine let Kurt touch him for a moment before ducking his own hand under the blanket and unzipping his pants, shuffling them off under the covers until they made an appearance at the end of the mattress briefly before being kicked down. Kurt let his hand slide down Blaine's torso, under the blanket, and let his fingers graze over the erection discovered beneath them.

Blaine made a small gasp and tipped his head back, eyes now as black on the insides as they were on the skin surrounding it as he gazed at Kurt.

"Make up for last time." Kurt said softly, his fingers exploring the other man's length. He couldn't help but blush, even though he was trying to appear confident despite his inexperience.

He watched the bob of Blaine's adam apple, and then the slow nod of his head. Blaine was red in the face as well. "Absolutely…" His eyes caught on Blaine's face now, Kurt found he couldn't tear himself away from watching him - even though he had all of the man's body offered up to him, all he could focus on was his face.

Blaine had just shaved within the past couple days, allowing Kurt to see the delicate curve of his chin and cheekbones under the stubble that insisted on protruding. They were all full of blush. What Kurt focused on the most though were Blaine's lips. He remembered how he made the correlation between the colour of Blaine's lips and the head of his penis and couldn't help but smile softly while Blaine was gently pushing him back on the bed. His smile was lost though the instant Blaine's lips connected with his neck, replaced with an open mouth made slack by the moan he couldn't stop from escaping.

Kurt reached down to trace his fingers over the muscles in Blaine's back then, but was quickly halted by a strong pair of hands capturing his own and holding them up and over Kurt's head. Unable to let his hands explore Blaine, Kurt was forced to focus on the ministrations of Blaine's tongue and lips as they explored his neck, collarbone, and then his chest. He didn't think it was possible to be as flushed as he was, and as noisy for that matter. Every touch, every press of lips resulted in a moan or whine or whimper that Kurt was sure he didn't make himself.

He didn't even realize his hands had been freed until they shot up at the point Blaine had made his way down to Kurt's lower abdomen and was rolling his tongue along the length of Kurt's cock. Another first for him, Kurt wasn't going to miss out and looked down at Blaine through half lidded eyes, watching the man worshipping him with his tongue and lips and looking back up at him through those damned long lashes. Each stroke of his tongue was deliberate, slow, and terribly teasing. Kurt put his hands on his hips, trying to hold himself back, but once again his hands were redirected - this time set right into the curls atop Blaine's head where Kurt let the vines of hair entrap his fingers as he clutched into them.

Without anything to stop him though, Kurt couldn't help but buck up when the sensation of Blaine's mouth around his cock became too much for him to bear, crying out weakly while Blaine gagged around him.

Despite that though, Blaine kept up the pace he had created, taking a little bit more of Kurt with each bob of his head, and Kurt found his legs spreading out to allow Blaine the space to do his work.

Kurt could feel the tension build in the base of his stomach, and his toes were damn near digging into the balls of his feet the way they were curling up. He knew he'd come soon. It was just a matter of -

With a pop, Blaine came off his cock though, grinning mischievously up at Kurt who damn near hissed at him for stopping. It was forgiven though, the instant Blaine's finger found its way between Kurt's cheeks and rubbed the outside of Kurt's entrance. A hiss was quickly changed into a moan and Kurt's back arched with a mind all its own.

"Let me get something?" Blaine asked, as if Kurt could argue in that moment. Kurt shuddered when he felt Blaine's weight off the bed and the loss of contact with the other man. His eyes searched around the room and found Blaine digging through one of his bags - a gorgeously naked sight to behold. Whatever flaws Kurt thought Blaine had were forgotten. All he felt then was desire and need for that body.

Blaine showed Kurt the small bottle when he walked back towards him, and though it took Kurt a moment to read it through his milky vision, he knew what it was before it was even brought back. Remembering how it hurt the last time, his body became rigid and tense, though he forced himself to keep his legs apart. It didn't hurt in the end, he reminded himself, it was worth the pain.

Blaine didn't coat himself up though with the lubricant, instead slicking up a finger which he dropped down to Kurt's hole, rubbing the tightened muscle slowly until it relaxed enough to allow entrance to the finger which slowly slipped in to the knuckle. Kurt held his breath initially, but let it out the instant he realized it didn't hurt as much as before. Blaine was going so slowly, watching Kurt's face for a reaction before he moved that one small finger, and finally, when Kurt didn't feel any semblance of burning, he made a nod to Blaine.

The finger slowly slid in further, and then back out, repeating that deliberate motion over and over until Kurt's body loosened around the invader enough for pleasure to overcome any discomfort. Without realizing it, Kurt was arcing his hips into the movement and moaning with each full swallowing of the finger.

That gave Blaine the go ahead to add a second coated finger. Initially it caught Kurt off guard and he tensed again at the doubling of size within him, but it didn't take very long for him to adjust that time, and he caught himself pleading for more.

A third was added, and it wasn't enough. Blaine was right. If this was what things were supposed to be like, he had been much too rough that other night because Kurt felt absolutely heavenly. With a whine, he commanded, "You… you now."

And Blaine nodded, removing his fingers despite Kurt's growl of disapproval so he could prepare himself with what lubricant he had. Kurt started to roll himself over, just as he had that other night, but the hand that wasn't coating Blaine's cock caught Kurt by the arm.

"Please… let me look at you…."

So Kurt laid on his back, watching as Blaine carefully lined himself up and then, so carefully, pushed himself in. He was thicker than three fingers, and definitely longer too, but instead of it hurting, Kurt moaned with each small push into him. The stretch felt good, amazing actually, and the skin of his own cock felt too tight to contain just how aroused he was as Blaine bottomed out and held himself in place within him.

"Let me know… when I can move…" Blaine gasped softly.

Kurt's eyes snapped open, staring incredulously at the man above him, "Now. Now! Please. Fuck. MOVE!"

Kurt was sure he heard Blaine chuckle a little, but he was too overcome by the sensation within him. The rub against so many nerve endings within him as Blaine pulled back and then pushed back in was intoxicating, and just when Kurt didn't think it could get any better, Blaine's hand tucked themselves under his hips and made him angle in such a way that his most sensitive of spots was being stimulated.

He knew he swore. He knew he yelled. He definitely knew he didn't care though. Everything felt so perfect that he could die happily in that moment. When he orgasmed, he was sure it came too soon and Blaine would figure out exactly how inexperienced he was, but he didn't care. He just didn't care and it was wonderful.

A gasp came above him and Blaine stilled inside him. Kurt felt the warmth inside and then Blaine's body cover him, shudders passing through them both in silence.

When Blaine did pull out, he did so very slowly, kissing Kurt's collarbone again as what had to be a way of distracting Kurt from the sudden emptiness and burn of the air as it replaced the space Blaine had made inside him.

Thankfully, it worked to an extent, helped along by the fact that Kurt was somewhere between consciousness and sleep. He didn't noticed this time when Blaine stepped away, and was only somewhat aware when he felt something wiping off his chest, stomach, and rear. He did hear Blaine open the door and call for that damned dog, and he did smell the dog when it entered and sniffed his face, making Kurt turn his head away.

The blanket was pulled up over him, and for awhile, Kurt let himself lay in peace, ignoring the fact he had found himself pressed not only against a hairy man, but also had a hairy dog on his other side for some reason. Then, as the light stabbed into the corners of his eyes from the cracks in the planks of the walls, he forced himself to sit up.

Beside him, Blaine had drifted off to sleep, his arms wrapped around Kurt's waist and a happy smile on his lips. Kurt couldn't help but smile in return, though Blaine couldn't see it. This was as close as he'd come to those dreams that haunted him, that teased him with bliss and scenes from a life he'd never have. Maybe he would never be able to have such a life, but at least he could get some brief joy out of this situation.

For now though, he needed to go out and hunt.


	13. Chapter 12: The Library

"_**The ability to breathe the air and drink the water will be what the wars will be about from here on in. And it's coming with alarming rapidity." - William Shatner**_

Days passed, then weeks, and a new routine was formed overtop of the old one. Wake, wash, hunt, patrol, read, make arrows, visit Blaine and send away Pudding, have sex with Blaine, return to his own bed, start again. Certainly not everyday, but enough for Kurt to feel that he was making up for lost time as well as getting as much in as he could before spring when Blaine would go.

Each and every time in Blaine's bed was so different, even if they were doing something they had already done before. Sometimes a simple touch was enough to bring Kurt to climax while other times he felt greedy, wanting more, needing more, to come undone - begging and pleading until everything hit him all at once.

Blaine, at first, had asked Kurt to stay with him afterwards - to cuddle and share his bed. After the first few times though, he stopped asking. Kurt always got himself dressed again and left for his own bed, for the freedom and space he was used to. He didn't want to become accustomed to sharing a bed with someone. Getting used to having another body beside him was not something he knew he would be able to handle, especially if it was another habit he'd have to break come spring.

The sex helped Kurt in ways couldn't have anticipated. He slept better, felt better, even moved better somehow. The tension that had been a part of his body for so long dissipated, making Kurt realize that for a long time, he had been living with aches and pains he had just accepted as part of who he was. Now with them gone, he was able to be a better version of himself. He picked up on new tracks and brought in more kills than ever before. He was able to tolerate the little nuances of people that would irritate him into leaving for the comfort of his home otherwise. He was even able to stomach all the crab apple desserts the chefs kept hoisting upon him.

He never talked about it and Blaine never pressed the issue. It was an unspoken acceptance that whatever they had was a ticking time bomb, waiting for the spring to detonate - but not with an explosion, something still and silent instead. When Blaine held a hand out for Kurt to take once in town, Kurt ignored it. He pretended not to hear Blaine's insistent compliments when they passed one another in town either, and just like staying to cuddle afterwards, Blaine stopped providing the compliments and his hand - at least when they were outside of the safety of his cabin. Blaine had to know that asking Kurt for more was pointless.

"Well aren't you just a ray of obnoxious sunshine." Kitty said, looking Kurt up and down when he came into the clinic one morning.

Kurt glanced down over himself. He hadn't been smiling when he entered, nor had he said anything yet, so how Kitty presumed he was all that pleasant was a mystery. "I brought Mike some stuff he asked me to keep an eye out for…"

Kurt handed over a bag, which Kitty peeked into and then smirked. "Actually, I asked for it, and Mike must have passed along the message." She pulled a plant out, purple flower with a long green stem and longer root included. Kurt had found it on his hunt that morning which matched the description Mike had given him. Finding plants in the middle of winter was rare, but this particular plant and several along with it had been sheltered by a circling of trees. "Milk thistle. Helps with heartburn… and a lot of liver problems."

"Never figured you for a botanist." Kurt grunted, one eyebrow arched as he tried to hide any indication that he was impressed.

She tucked the plant back into the bag, along with the others Kurt had found growing with it. "I was a worker before this you know. I made it my job to know what the hell I was harvesting, even if everyone else was just happy to cut it and throw it into piles. Now that I'm in this position, maybe what I learned about plants can actually help people. We can't rely on finding old prescriptions forever after all."

"How do you prepare them?"

Kitty looked back to Kurt, eyes twinkling just slightly as she caught his gaze, "Pulp it down and, depending on what you want to use it for, either as simple as making it into a tea or as difficult as having it react with other things. Each part has a different use… why do you care anyhow?"

Kurt shrugged, "Just… always on the lookout for more useful information."

"Yeah, but you don't talk to others unless you have to."

"Just let me know if there's any other plants you want me to watch out for. Good bye Kitty." Kurt said then, turning in place. It was true he was being too friendly and he didn't want people to get used to it - especially not her.

It wasn't the first unusual interaction he had that day.

"Kurt, can I talk to you?"

David Karofsky had come up alongside him, right in the middle of town where Kurt couldn't very well tell him where to go without making a scene. "What is it David?"

"Well, the Christmas party is coming up and I'd like to ask you to join me."

Kurt rolled his eyes for all to see and immediately shook his head, "First of all, Christmas was probably two weeks ago by my estimates, secondly, I don't know why you bother asking me."

"I told you I would… and when it might have actually been doesn't matter. It's a chance for people to get together and celebrate."

Kurt made a tutting sound in his mouth, "Celebrate what exactly David? That we're still alive?"

"Yes!" The bigger man spluttered, "Absolutely! Why not?"

"Not interested."

That elicited a groaning growl from Karofsky who threw his hands up in the air and then back over his hair, "Kurt, you're impossible! Why don't you just give it… give ME a shot?"

"I'm not so easily won over for starters David. Just having a dick and wanting me doesn't guarantee you'll get me."

Of course, Kurt thought to himself, that wasn't true of everyone these days. His mind drifted to the thought of Blaine between his thighs the night before and a sly smile graced his features.

"Fuck. Only you would be concerned with romantic pretenses in this day and age. Fine. I'll ask again for the Valentine's day gathering you know." David grunted as he left.

Which would also be scheduled probably be two weeks too late.

"Kurt!" Rachel called after him not even five minutes after that exchange, and once again he had to stop in place and entertain someone who exhausted him.

"Yes?"

"I know you're quite busy with… well… whatever it is you do." She started in on him, rounding before him so she was face to chest with him. Rachel was ridiculously short. "But I was hoping to get you to help out with the class."

"With what exactly? I've already come in several times in the past couple months to do survivalism lessons. Unless you expect me to teach them the virtues of not eating the yellow snow you might want to hold back on overusing me as a guest speaker."

She shook her head, "No, no… it's just that I'd like to get them reading more and I thought that since you've contributed most of the books in that book dump we call a library that maybe you could sort and catalog them so it was like a real library."

Kurt's eyebrows rose nearly right off his head, "Are you kidding me? You know how much work that is?"

"Oh pish-posh. Just dewey decimal them and you'll be fine."

"I don't think you recognize just how much time that would take…."

"Well find some helpers! This would be a great opportunity for you to network."

She wasn't going to take no for an answer.

He let loose a sigh and shook his head, "Fine, fine… just… give me some time…"

A sharp clap struck his ears as her hands collided together, accompanied by a victorious yelp that only Rachel seemed capable of. How her students tolerated her was beyond Kurt's capacity for understanding. "Excellent!"

Which is what led Kurt back to the clinic,

"How mobile is Trent?" Kurt asked Mike, forgoing a greeting.

"Uh… what? Why?" Mike seemed taken aback by the question and glanced to Trent's room and then back to Kurt.

"I need someone to help with organizing the library and since he has limited mobility and probably wouldn't be able to do most jobs around here even when he is healed up.. I thought…."

"That's brilliant Kurt."

"Plus he and Blaine were fancy pants rich kids back before the Tides… I have a feeling he could probably recite the dewey decimal system categories off by heart if I asked him."

Mike chuckled, then just looked over Kurt's face thoughtfully.

"Do I have something on my face?"

"No… you just look different. Better I'd say."

"Didn't even know I was sick Mike." Kurt huffed, arms immediately crossing over his chest defensively.

"Not in a way I could handle anyhow. And to answer your question… we were going to move Trent out and into an apartment of his own soon anyhow, so, with help, he'd be able to do what you're suggesting. He'd probably just need help with carrying the books."

Kurt nodded to Mike. It went without saying who was the best choice for helping Trent would be. He proposed the idea to Blaine that evening while he was pulling his pants back up and tightening his belt.

"It would probably make you both feel more useful and included around town…."

Blaine was watching Kurt from where he was still laying in bed, eyes still glossy and his curls tight with the sweat coating it. As had become usual, he was quiet after sex, which would have been fine on it's own, but the way he watched Kurt as he got dressed and left always had Kurt feeling uncomfortable afterwards - though clearly not uncomfortable enough to stop him from coming back.

This time though, Kurt was trying to get a response out of Blaine, so keeping quiet wasn't an option. Once he had his shirt pulled over himself, he turned and looked at Blaine curiously. "Bad idea? Did I miss something? Does Trent have a paper allergy?"

That got a small smile out of Blaine, at least one that cracked up the corner of his mouth. "No… the opposite actually. I've had to do book runs for Trent daily the way he's whipping through books from there. I'm just glad he's off his poetry kick. The amount of sappy love sonnets I had to listen into when Kitty was in the room was sickening."

Kurt chuckled and shook his head, trying to picture it. Admittedly, his perspective on it was skewed by the fact that Kitty had only ever been caustic to him and he couldn't imagine her buying into something so sickly sweet.

"It is a good idea Kurt… Maybe once… once spring comes, Trent could function as a librarian here anyhow…"

"Have you talked to him at all about staying?"

Blaine sighed and shook his head, looking away from Kurt and towards his fire. The sadness in his eyes drew Kurt back to the bed where he sat on the edge and set a hand on Blaine's. "Hey… he'll be fine here. I'll look out for him when you're gone."

Kurt watched the adam's apple bob in Blaine's mouth and the forced blink of his eyes. "RIght. Thanks."

"You could always come visit him you know… it's not like it's good bye forever."

Blaine shook his head quickly then, "No… no… us coming up this far North was a fluke as it was. We were following a path that we thought went further south and it actually turned us the other way… "

"That doesn't mean…."

Kurt just stopped talking. Blaine was unresponsive and not even looking at Kurt. He just needs time, Kurt told himself, time to come to terms with the idea. Trent and Blaine were like best friends after all. It would be hard to give up that brotherly bond - at least that's how Kurt imagined the pair, it's not like he knew from any experience.

"I'll call in Pudding for you." Kurt said quietly as he got up and left the small home. The cold air always felt good on his skin after a heated romp.

Pudding was getting weighty fast. Her belly sagged and Kurt had quietly acknowledged that if he was going to continue his evening meetings with Blaine, he would have to take Pudding to his cabin or get used to having a voyeur dog around. All of her unborn puppies had already been claimed by community members, eager to get their hands on a dog now that they knew the value of having a pet against the threat of Others. Even Quinn and Noah had agreed to let Beth have one without much of a fight.

Some were trying to tame wild dogs on their own as well, though none seemed to be able to do it as easily as Blaine had and he had been spending an increasing amount of time helping to tame those wild dogs to the point that he was purposely breeding a set so there were more puppies to go around. Puppies were easier to train than dogs after all.

Despite that though, Kurt was still tentative about taking a dog of his own. Pudding was an absolute sweetheart. She has barely been with Blaine for a few weeks and was already obedient and compliant like no dog Kurt had ever known existed. But she shed, and took up more space than Kurt had to give. It was silly, Kurt knew, to worry about shedding when most of his outerwear and his whole bed and blanketing system was made from pelts and hides, but it irked him nonetheless.

Trent was elated to be asked to organize the library. Apparently his months as a bed bound invalid had made him more than anxious for something to do to prove himself and Kurt had to forcibly extract himself from the hug he ended up receiving abruptly from a man who still barely walk, let alone lunge as he had at Kurt in order to give him said hug.

He wasn't surprised to find Trent and Blaine already in the library later that day, making various stacks and talking about how to make shelving.

"Let me know if you guys need anything." Kurt offered, and while it was meant to be just a polite offering with no actual concern over doing anything, Kurt found himself with a list of things to look out for on future scavengings as well as a plea to collect and chop wood to build the shelves.

"How many kids are there in the school anyhow?" Blaine asked that night as he sat by Kurt, dutifully helping to make arrows as Kurt had taught him the skill a couple weeks earlier. He still had issues keeping the sinew taunt though and kept fumbling when he tied the arrowhead on.

"MMm…. about forty I think…"

"That's a pretty big chunk of kids.. mind you if they're five to eighteen then -"

"No. Three to fourteen."

Blaine dropped another arrowhead on his lap, cursed under his breath and then looked back to Kurt, "Fourteen? Why fourteen?"

"It's not like we have a competitive post secondary situation Blaine. At best, the school is a place for the kids to be babysat while their parents work and they learn the fundamentals of what they need to know."

Blaine made a small huff, which Kurt knew by this point meant Blaine was disagreeing with the statement but not willing to argue it. "What qualifies as fundamental?"

"Well… basic math skills, reading, Rachel insists on music, Finn does a lot of sports with them and bores them with old sports statistics…"

"I used to be a big Buckeyes fan…" Blaine murmured, twisting a piece of sinew over his thumb and staring it down with determined focus.

"Mmm… my dad was too…" Kurt mused, pausing his own movement for a moment as a scene of his dad yelling at some sport with a ball on their television. He caught himself though and began wrapping the arrow shaft again, "Anyhow… they also have "experts" come in and talk to them. How to harvest, how to spin cloth, how to cook different things…."

"Sounds not like school at all." Blaine grumbled, holding his tongue between his teeth as he tried to get an arrowhead to stay in place.

"And what would you have them learn Blaine? Calculus and Latin? What use would that be?"

"About as much use as it was before the Tides. That's not the point. Ha!" He had gotten the arrowhead in place and successfully tied it down.

Kurt chuckled and took Blaine's pile of materials and swapped it with his own, "Here. Binding them is easier."

"Thanks…." Blaine murmured, half-insulted, half-grateful. "Anyhow… I don't know… I just wish I had gotten the chance for high school."

"I'm kind of glad I didn't… it was bad enough in middle school when my voice really didn't change and I didn't start growing one of those terrible wispy mustaches that seem to be a sign of puberty among boys. The teasing was relentless."

"Oh Kurt…." Blaine looked up.

Kurt shook his head, "It's over. Doesn't matter. It's not like high school would have been useful for what I'm doing now."

"What would you have done… if the Tides hadn't happened?"

It was the first time Kurt had been asked that. He had heard people ask it of one another all the time, especially in casual conversation, but never had the question been addressed to him.

"I really don't know… I'm not… I'm not who I was back then… I don't think I'd recognize myself from back then."

"But you must have the memories right?"

Kurt knew. It didn't matter that he'd never been asked before this moment - he knew what he had wanted. Saying it aloud though… he wasn't going to do it.

"I have memories sure… just… I guess I wasn't thinking about it then."

"Mmm… I had it all planned out." Blaine said, looking up at the ceiling dreamily, "Graduate, top of my class with various distinctions and honors… apply to all sorts of prestigious schools my parents would approve of… and then go into the arts to spite them!"

Kurt laughed at that openly, shaking his head, "Blaine… that's terrible! Why would you go into something just to spite them?"

Blaine took in a deep breath and then exhaled it slowly, looking back down to his arrow, "Not just to spite them. I loved dancing and singing since I was little… but when my brother went to L.A. to pursue acting, I was warned not to follow the same foolhardy path he had by my parents… especially since I was gay. I needed to be respectable and not a cliche according to my dad."

The grin on Kurt's face quickly fell. He had forgotten how bad things were for gay kids before The Tides, especially when it came to parents. It was doubly hard to accept since his own dad had supported him to the end. "Blaine…."

Blaine just kept talking though. "... I had just gotten out of the hospital you know? Right before the Tides. My parents picked me up from the hospital and dropped me off at Dalton… the prep school I was going to attend. I had been beaten at my old school for going to a dance with another guy… My dad's attitude was like… well, you're gay, you'd better get used to life sucking. Just the way the world is."

Kurt worried his lower lip between his teeth as he watched Blaine speak, so absorbed in the memory he was relating. How was he supposed to react to it though? How could he react to it?

"... and I remember, a few years ago, thinking back to how my dad said that and thinking about how no one really cares about that anymore because they're too busy surviving and even if you are gay - well, hey… at least you're not one of them. For a moment I actually wished my dad was there so I could tell him that life doesn't have to suck like he said… then I remember that he died because of The Others… and… well hell… there's no winning is there?"

Kurt had thought that was the end of Blaine's story, setting down the arrow he had in his hands and crawling aside Blaine when the curly haired map nipped his lower lip, shook his head and looked back up, "Fuck. I miss him still even… ten years and I miss him even though I distinctly remember feeling like I hated him."

There wasn't anything Kurt knew to say, knew to do. No one ever told him how to handle someone else being upset like this. It wasn't in any of his books. So he opted to place a hand gently on Blaine's shoulder to let him know he was there. It was the least he could do when Blaine was opening up to him like he was.

Blaine's held dropped back down, the curls brushing over the back of Kurt's hand, and then Blaine's head followed, resting on Kurt's hand. Emitting a weary sigh, Blaine murmured, "Sorry. I wrecked the arrow making mood."

Kurt smiled and let out a small chuckle as he rubbed over Blaine's shoulder, "That's okay… I've been told I can have mood swings too."

"You?!" Blaine mock-gasped as he withdrew his head and made a faux face of shock at Kurt. "No!"

He got a playful smack on the shoulder in response. "Make arrows Anderson."

"Yes sir."

Blaine had somehow weaseled into Kurt's evening routine weeks ago and Kurt had just accepted it. It made the transition to the bed easier anyhow. Arrow making went faster even with Blaine's deplorable skill at it, and Kurt had begun to teach him how to use a bow as well - which was also a lesson in patience for Kurt as Blaine didn't seem to be able to hold the bow straight for more than a second. They always listened to music during their evenings together, commenting on the lyrics or comparing one artist to another.

"I have an idea…" Blaine prompted one evening, holding out a particularly worn out looking phone for Kurt to see.

"I thought that one didn't have any music on it…"

"It doesn't. It does have a record function though and lots of room…."

"Blaine… if you are suggesting that we make a sex tape in this dystopia… -"

Blaine held his hands up with the palms out right away, "No! Not that! Just listen…."

Kurt retracted the brows he had raised in automatic defense down and looked at Blaine, waiting for the point to be made.

"I want to record you singing."

"You're kidding right?"

Blaine fervently shook his head, "No… that time you were singing to Beth…. it was so amazing…. I just…." He looked at the phone in his hand, "I just want to be able to hear you sing… even when I'm gone."

Kurt rolled his eyes. He wasn't that good, especially after years of not practicing.

"Please Kurt?"

"I'll think about it…."

Blaine's grin that followed was so huge that Kurt had to look away lest he agree right there and then and give up all semblance of power he had in making that decision, even though that face had essentially made the choice for him. Terrible voice or not, he couldn't say no to such a sweet request as that, especially when it was Blaine asking.

"Can you trim me up?"

Despite having a go-to in town for hair and esthetic needs, Wade-Unique Adams, Blaine still insisted on having Kurt take care of his beard and hair.

"I still think you should learn to shave yourself…." Kurt said with a shake of his head as he went to grab his scissors and a razor out of one of his bins. "... at least before you go."

"I like being pampered. It's my privileged upbringing you know." Blaine said, tilting his head back to rest against Kurt's bed.

"Mmmhmmm…" Kurt set a pot of water on the fire with a rag in it and then crept to Blaine, eyeing over that persistent stubble that would turn into a thick hairy forest if he let it grow out any more. "You know, even when I wasn't able to grow anything on my face, my dad still taught me how to shave."

"I'm sure my dad might have, but I was left with my nanny most of the time and aside from a particularly nasty looking mole, she didn't have any facial hair to demonstrate to me how it was done."

Kurt reached back and grabbed the rag from the quickly heated pot, wrenching the extra water from it and then laying it over the bottom half of Blaine's face to soften his skin before the shave. "I should have figured you would have had a nanny to wipe up after you."

Blaine made a response, though it was muffled through the rag. Giving him a pat on the shoulder, Kurt chuckled, "Give it a second."

He enjoyed these simple moments. No one else around, no urgency for sex, or focus because they were in the act, but just laid back moments when they were just around one another and Kurt felt like he could let down his walls just a bit.

He gave Blaine a thorough shave, leaving no nicks and leaving him so smooth that Kurt couldn't help but draw his fingers down the freshly cleaned face. "Perfect."

Blaine grinned back, "You are."

Kurt discarded the compliment with a roll of his eyes and nudged Blaine's side, "Come on, let me tidy up that mop on your head."

"I think you secretly like my curls." Blaine said as he repositioned himself with his back to Kurt. "Your fingers are always in them…"

"They help keep me grounded."

Kurt unfurled each curl and cut it down to a tidier length, tossing the remains into the fire where they curled up tightly and made a small stink before joining the ashes at the bottom of Kurt's fire pit.

"When Trent and I were exploring Dalton, we found the library and Trent nearly peed himself when he saw just how big the 900's were…"

"900's?"

"History stuff… Trent loves a good book on war. Anyhow… the library in town had a sorry lack of history books. I think it's important that we try to get some of those books on our next trip out."

Kurt ran his fingers through Blaine's hair, searching for hidden curls that weren't as noticeable. "People here don't like to be reminded of how far humanity has come… and how far it's gone back."

"Still. It's our history. Humanity's history. It shouldn't be lost to them."

"It's a shame politicians have gone extinct because with words like that, you'd be a shoo-in for whatever office you'd run for."

Blaine chuckled. "I mean it though. There's a lot people can learn… or even aspire to in history. If kids like Beth don't know what we've lost, how can they know what they have to gain?"

"You turning renegade on me Anderson?"

"No… just… I don't know. I think they should appreciate the miracle of their existence since we seemed to be almost pretty wiped out after The Tides."

Kurt sighed, leaning back on his knees. "You're all done."

Blaine reached up and fingered through his hair, "You cut it shorter this time… it feels so light."

"Turn around… let me see you from the front."

Blaine obeyed and Kurt took in a breath. It was such a simple thing - a shave and a haircut, but it did so much to take the age and hardships off of him.

"You look decent. Less homeless."

Blaine grinned and checked out what reflection of himself that he could see in the pot. "Oh yah. I haven't had my hair this short in years. I look like a kid again."

"You always have a childlike quality to you." Kurt noted as he put away his tools, "You just look like a less homeless child now."

"Mmm… it's a shame there's that meeting tonight because my weiner area could use a trim around too." Blaine said with a wink.

"Weiner? Really? That is the least sexy term you could use for it." Kurt said coolly as he looked back to Blaine.

"Manrod?"

Kurt arched an eyebrow.

"Dangly wangly?"

The other eyebrow went up.

"Gentleman sausage?"

He pursed his lips together tightly.

"Beef bayonet?"

Kurt couldn't hold it in any longer and burst into a fit of giggles, holding his stomach tightly as he tried not to laugh out his spleen which seemed to please Blaine to no end as the smile he bore stretched over his face in complete satisfaction.

When Kurt was finally able to catch his breath and wipe away his laughing tears, he stood up and led the way out and to the monthly meeting being held on the main street instead of the hill outside of town where it usually was held in more temperate months. When they got there, a line-up for what smelled like chili was already well formed and the pair added themselves to it.

"Thank you for coming everyone!" Rachel announced as soon as they had gotten their meal and leaned back against one of the buildings. The loud brunette had centered herself on the street so everyone could see her. "We'll make it quick so we're not out in the elements for too long!"

The usual reports were given - Mercedes for the workers, Carole for the clinic, Santana reported for the guards, and Finn even gave a report on what the 'theme of the month' was going to be in the school. Rachel then spoke again.

"Renovation of the library is nearly complete thanks to Kurt, Blaine, and Trent!"

A smattering of applause, mostly polite, though broken up by the exuberant clapping of the children in the mix who had clearly been coerced by their teacher into thinking the library was a big deal. Blaine nodded with a smile to those who looked towards him, while Kurt just ignored it. Trent had made it out for this meeting too, sitting on a bench with Kitty at his side not far from where Kurt stood. He also smiled, though looked a little taken aback by the announcement and sudden attention placed on him.

"Trent not a crowd person?" Kurt whispered over.

Blaine shook his head, "Nope." He was also looking over towards Trent, noting his obvious discomfort as the bigger man shrunk against Kitty.

"Library is a good place for him then."

Blaine smiled softly and nodded in reply

"Finally, the Christmas gathering is in a couple days! Anyone who'd like to come help decorate would be more than appreciated!"

Blaine looked towards Kurt and Kurt immediately shook his head. He would not be volunteering to make the old hall look tacky with the few decorations people had kept for a party he wasn't going to be a part of.

"Why not?"

"Not my thing."

"Trent and Kitty are going and he can't even dance."

"I'm patrolling anyhow."

"Oh."

As people left, Kurt looked again to Blaine, "You know, my not going, doesn't mean you don't have to abstain from it. It's not like we're a thing or anything."

Blaine didn't respond to the statement, just took in a breath and then turned towards where Kitty was helping Trent up, "I'll see you later."

"Alright."

Kurt had patrol that night so he didn't see Blaine until he came into the library the next day to help make some more shelves. Blaine seemed to understand construction better than Kurt did, despite insisting that he had no training, and Kurt was good at collecting lumber and cutting it to size. Together they built shelves against the walls and placed the books where Trent wanted them.

While he was there, Rachel came in, children in tow - all as loud as they could possibly be until Rachel hushed them.

"We just came to check up on the library! Would you be willing to read the kids a story perhaps?"

Finn was nowhere in sight, which meant that he was probably sick or busy with something and Rachel was looking for other adults to help support her child minding. Poor Trent, once again taken aback by the crowd of small humans now filling up the small space, was her victim.

"I'll do it." Blaine offered after sizing up his friend's reaction. He quickly choose a story and sat himself down on one of the benches they had also build for the library, the children sitting themselves on any available floor space they could find. While Kurt continued to stack the shelves with books, he listened in as Blaine enchanted the children with a tale of a writer who wanted to write books, but instead wrote obituaries because he needed the money. Blaine used different voices for the different characters, and had the children all giggling - even the older ones who were always so set on trying to be too cool to find things funny the same way the younger children did. By the time he finished, Kurt had gotten all the books loaded onto the shelves while Trent was busy labelling the sides of more of them and creating index cards for them all.

A hand rose, then several more, and Blaine found himself answering questions. Most were content based - what was an obituary?, how did money work?, why would someone have to pay for food? Then, precocious Beth spoke up.

"Why can't people do what they want to do?"

"Well… he did end up writing books Beth, he just had to work for it." Blaine offered, getting a shake of her head as part of the response.

"No. I mean, why can't people here write if they want to? Missus Berry says it's because of supply and demand but what if I don't want to be a worker?"

Rachel chimed in then, "Beth dear, you don't have to be a worker. You could be a guard… or a hunter like your mom…"

"But I don't want to be those things either!" Beth stood up then and Kurt watched the scene from between the tops of a layer of books and the bottom of a shelf he was standing behind. "Mel, George, and Tatum all want to do what Missus Adams does and cut hair and do nails n' stuff… but everyone says that there's not enough demand for there to be that many people who do that, so the first person who wants to apprentice with her will get to do it and that means Mel 'cause she's the oldest… but what if George or Tatum are better at it… or love it more? It's not fair…"

"Beth." Rachel's tone became stiff - her warning voice.

Blaine made a small shhing sound and glanced towards Beth, "Want to hear another story about that?"

Beth narrowed her eyes at Blaine as she regarded the question, a spitting image of her mother in that instant. She nodded and sat herself back on the ground, waiting patiently for Blaine to begin.

"Well… there once was a boy who dreamed of singing. It was all he wanted to do, and he knew that if he didn't get to sing when he grew up, it would be like he wasn't able to breath…."

How did Blaine know that? Kurt thought to himself, his own eyes narrowing as he listened into what was such a clear description of how he felt before The Tides.

"... but the Tides came, and in order to breath at all, the boy had to run. Run away from The Others in the hopes he'd be able to save his voice to share it with the world when things returned to the way they should be…. but they didn't change back. Life had changed around him and the stages and radios that he yearned for were no more."

"Doesn't mean he shouldn't still've sung…" Beth grumbled in a not so quiet whisper which earned her another warning from Rachel.

"The boy was shocked to find that even though there was no more place for singers in the new world, that he was still alive and breathing.. and he figured out that life was more than just what you did to earn money… like it was in the past…. or to help out… like it is now… it was about the people you knew, what you did to keep yourself happy… happiness doesn't always mean having the job you want. It can be found in keeping the people you care for fed and watered and safe. It can be found in a sunrise… or in a book even… When the boy was growing up, he heard people say things like 'Do what you love, the money will follow' and had thought that saying was about the job he had… but when he got older, he realized that saying was wrong. It was more important to live in the moment. Waiting for a future that might never come stops you from enjoying and experiencing the present. If you need to work the fields in order for everyone to have the food they need, then be happy about it because it means you're feeding your family and friends so that they'll be with you and you can do things with them after work that you do enjoy."

The room was quiet. The older children nodding to themselves as if they understood while the younger ones fidgeted in place and looked confused. Beth was one of the nodders though, and miraculously had nothing more to add to the topic.

"How'd you know…?" Kurt asked later, after they had left the library and after they had exhausted themselves with sex.

"Wha?" Blaine asked back, his chest rising high as he was still working on catching his breath.

"That story you told… I never told you I wanted to sing… how did you know that about me?"

Blaine's brow furrowed, then flattened, "You thought I was telling a story about you?"

Kurt nodded.

"That was about me Kurt….."

"Oh…."

Blaine leaned onto his side then, propping himself on an elbow as he looked over Kurt with renewed vigor. "You wanted to sing?"

Kurt shrugged up his shoulders noncommittally and looked away as he turned himself over and sat up, beginning the process of redressing himself. "I guess. I was a kid though. What did I know?"

"You would have been amazing… on the radio with hits galore. I probably would have been one of those insane fans waiting in line for hours just to catch a glimpse of you…."

Kurt snicked and shook his head, standing up to pull his pants up. "Doubtful."

"You're too hard on yourself you know."

"Well at least you've heard me sing… I've never heard you sing and you're the one so open about what your dreams were."

Kurt turned just in time to see Blaine frown down at the mattress before looking back up to Kurt, "I'm afraid if I sing again I'll never want to stop. It's easy enough to tell a bunch of kids what they need to do in order to keep on going, but actually shutting down a dream like that was harder than I make it out to be."

Kurt kept his eyes on Blaine, curious, as he grabbed his sweater off the floor. "Is that why you treasure your little electronic music boxes so much?"

Blaine nodded stiffly. "Speaking of which, do you want one tonight?"

It was a rhetorical question. Even if Blaine hadn't asked, Kurt would have grabbed one from the charged pile. Blaine was clearly trying to redirect the conversation.

"Yeah. I'll grab one on my way out."

"Call Pudding in for me?"

"Of course."

Kurt did grab a phone off the top of the pile and wrapped his arms tightly around his waist as he stepped out, boots crunching down into the snow fresh from a fall earlier in the day. He cursed himself for leaving his coat back at his own home because even the seconds long walk was going to make any exposed skin of his raw with how dry and cold it was outside. Thankfully Pudding returned quickly, her belly sagging heavily beneath her, full of pups. It wouldn't be long until the litter was born and labrador crosses would be all over town.

He was still getting used to the idea of having a dog once Blaine was gone. He always figured he was more of a cat person.

Of course, once Blaine was gone he could always make his old place into an extra large dog house since he was still planning to take over Blaine's much better constructed shack. Maybe even add a little more onto the front to give it a homier feel.

For some reason though, no matter how he wrapped his head around it, it still didn't seem to give him a sense of what home should be, and after over eight years in this place it bothered Kurt that he didn't know what home was.


	14. Chapter 13: Gardening

"_**Kissing is like drinking salted water, you drink and your thirst increases." - Chinese Proverb**_

"Tighter…. Blaine! Tighter!"

The crack of the string sounded, and Blaine's hand fell to his side with an exasperated sigh. "How do you… it doesn't look that hard when I'm watching…"

Kurt gave his head a shake and pushed himself off of the tree he had been leaning back on as he directed Blaine's bow training. To say that Blaine was having problems with the skill would have been an understatement.

"Those biceps of yours are deceiving. Here I thought you'd have no problem pulling back on that string…." Kurt hummed, taking Blaine's fallen hand in his own and lifting it back up to the string where he needed to pull back.

"It makes my fingers hurt."

Kurt smothered a laugh inside his mouth and gave his head another shake. "Suck it up. You wanted to learn and I'm teaching you."

Another sigh escaped from between Blaine's lips, and, under Kurt's guiding hands, Blaine again pulled the string back as taut as he could manage it while Kurt directed him to hold it in place. They still weren't at the point where Kurt was letting him use (and waste) arrows yet.

"Hold it…."

"My fingers are numb, my hand is cramped, my whole arm feels like it's been pulled in all directions…" Blaine complained, a small tremor shaking the bow that originated from him.

"Keep it steady. We're not going back until you can hold it for at least ten seconds."

It took several more tries, and Kurt enduring the most whining he had ever heard out of Blaine, but Blaine finally succeeded in the task and as promised, they returned to their cabins.

It had been a warmer day, as warm as it could get towards the end of January in this place anyhow, and with no patrol to work that afternoon, Kurt had spent it trying to train Blaine on the bow.

It had required all the patience he had.

When they returned to the cabins, the first thing Kurt noticed was that Pudding didn't come to greet them, and Blaine picked up on that too because he quickly walked to his cabin and called for her inside, and then back to Kurt once the reason she wasn't greeting them became apparent.

"The puppies are here!"

Kurt hurried over to Blaine's side and peeked inside. Laying in the gap between the elevated mattress and the ground was Pudding, a cluster of puppies all whining and clamouring for a teat to drink from. She wagged her tail lazily when she caught sight of her humans, but didn't move. The birth had obviously taken a lot out of her.

The men crept in and knelt by her, Blaine rubbing her head and cooing over her while Kurt silently counted the puppies.

"Eight…."

"Any….?"

Kurt just nodded, looking at the stiff, still body of one puppy off to the side. "One. One stillborn, eight live…"

Blaine smiled weakly and continued to praise Pudding as she let her pups feed while Kurt carefully picked up the small, dead puppy and took it outside where he dug a shallow grave in the frozen earth and buried the puppy so it wouldn't attract any predators. When he returned, Blaine was still knelt down on the ground, though now was watching Pudding as she licked off each of the pups.

"Can you tell who the dad was? Was he one of the ones that's been adopted in town?"

Blaine shook his head, "Can't really tell… they're all so tiny and squishy looking. Cute though…"

They watched over Pudding for a couple more hours, Blaine reveling over his new babies while Kurt just enjoyed watching the man turn into an absolute child around the puppies. Pudding was very patient with Blaine, letting him hold the pups and letting him lay aside her and them as they snuggled.

"I didn't know puppies were blind at birth…" Kurt admitted.

Blaine nodded as he watched the runt of the litter fight its way once again into the fray of its siblings in an attempt to get some milk. "Deaf too. Give them a couple weeks and they'll start to open up… though they won't see clearly for a few more weeks after that."

"Are you sure you didn't want to become a veterinarian when you grew up?"

Blaine turned his head and smiled over and up at Kurt, "I always loved animals… my parents would never let me have one. Said they were too filthy and didn't trust me to take care of it… There's something completely wonderful though about having someone there that's always happy to see you no matter what… ready to play or cuddle or just be with you."

"Mmm… it's a shame they don't smell better."

"Pudding smells just fine." Blaine turned his attentions back to the dog. "Don'cha girl?"

A wag of the tail, thumped hard against the ground, and an open jaw that panted towards Blaine was the response, which Blaine took to mean as agreement as he nuzzled the labrador mother. "Yah. You're a good smellin' girl."

Kurt chuckled and stood up. "Alright. I'll leave you two alone with your babies. The one with the black patch of unruly fuzz on its head does resemble you after all."

Blaine rolled onto his back and grinned up at Kurt, "Jealous?"

"Of Pudding? Never. There's no way I could compete with her."

"See you tomorrow?"

"Probably."

News of the puppy birth had all the young children coming to their corner of the community over the next few days and Rachel even had Blaine come in to teach the children about puppies and animal care. Their usual evening trysts were interrupted both by the invasion from humans visiting at all hours and puppies crying below Blaine's mattress. Kurt feigned irritation, but in truth he couldn't help but enjoy having the puppies around - so sweet, innocent, and adorable. Their needs were simple - feeding, being cleaned, sleep, and love, and Kurt found himself sitting in Blaine's cabin with puppies curled up all against and over his lap on several evenings instead of pressing flesh with Blaine.

"I'm going to assume you're patrolling again during the Valentine's dance…" Blaine stated, picking up one of the puppies as it made a break for the door when Pudding was sneaking out to relieve herself three weeks after the puppies had been born.

"You would assume correctly. Ow!" Kurt was finger wrestling with one of the pups who had decided to try out his canine's on Kurt's finger.

Blaine chuckled and reached over to take Kurt's hand, examining the non-existent bite and then letting Kurt have his hand back. "But it's the most romantic of holidays."

"All the more reason to stay away from it. There's a reason most babies are born around the beginning of winter out here."

"I thought, given how much Beth latches onto you when she see's you, that you would've been a kid person."

Kurt shrugged. "Don't mind kids… don't like to picture the process of how they come into the world is all."

"Conception or nine months later?"

"Both."

They laughed together and puppysat while Pudding took her break. All of the puppies had been claimed by people in the community and once they were old enough, they would go to their new homes. For now though, Blaine and Kurt got to enjoy them all. They still hadn't figured out who… or what the father was, but at the very least they knew he was brown by the mix of black and brown shades between all the pups.

"Cookie is chewing on your bootlace." Blaine said, nodding with his head towards Beth's intended puppy at Kurt's feet.

"Hey there little girl…" Kurt reached down to scoop her up. "... don't ruin my kicks."

"Library will be ready to open tomorrow…."

"I know." Kurt had known that for awhile and so Blaine bringing it up out of the blue was curious. He looked over, catching Blaine looking towards the fire distantly. "Why does that upset you?"

Blaine shrugged, "I don't know… I just think Trent's finally going to tell me he's staying is all…"

Kurt snorted and shook his head, "His moving in with Kitty last week wasn't indication enough?"

"He still hasn't said it."

"Not everything needs to be verbalized for it to be real Blaine."

"It does for me…"

"Well on the plus side, at least now you'll have more time to dedicate to becoming a less shitty archer."

"Hey!" Blaine snapped his head up. "I've been working my ass off on improving!"

"Well your ass isn't what should be working your bow. There's your first problem!"

The banter continued, as it generally did, well into the night until Kurt got too tired to keep up and excused himself to his home. It had been days since he had been intimate with Blaine, and while he didn't mind given the situation, his body did, and old familiar aches had begun to work back into his muscles and joints.

And old dreams revisited him.

"Wake up Kurt!"

Blaine was there, hovering over Kurt with wide worried honey eyes as Kurt breathed in heavily, ensuring he still had the breath that had seem stripped from him in the blackness he had just been a part of.

"I…" He didn't have words for it. He had thought those dreams were just memories now, but they… SHE came back just as fierce as before. This time though she had torn out his vocal cords while nibbling on his ear and whispering hate into his ear. "... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"Shh…." Blaine sat himself on the edge of Kurt's bed and drew Kurt into his arms. Well. He tried to. Kurt immediately pulled back and shook his head.

"I'm fine… I don't need… consolation.."

"You're sure?"

Kurt crooked up an eyebrow and Blaine stood up with a weak but acknowledging smile. "Right. You're always sure."

Blaine left and Kurt did manage to recapture sleep that night, though it was restless. When he awoke he was just glad the day had returned and there was no pressure to sleep. Once he finished his waking routine, he left the hut but an unfamiliar, non-snow crunch under his boot caused him to look down.

A bouquet of wildflowers.

In the middle of winter.

His brow bunched together in confusion and he knelt down to pick them up once he lifted his boot off them. They were all still mostly intact and, after ensuring no one was watching him, he inhaled the smell of summer and sighed softly at the nostalgia for the warmer months brought up inside him by that trigger. His routine interrupted briefly, he set the flowers inside his home and then continued as he normally would have during the day, only to find another set of wildflowers set on his doorstep that night when he returned.

Kurt wasn't sure if Blaine was playing some kind of joke on him, or trying to romance him, but he wasn't going to buy into it.

Even if he did enjoy the way the flowers made his hut smell.

Over the course of the next week, random gifts showed up on his doorstep. Flowers, a little bottle of hand lotion, a handmade card with a can of corn, and even a little silver charm in the shape of an arrowhead with a ribbon running through the clasp. Each time he glanced around to see if Blaine was watching him as he checked the gifts, and each time he saw no one. Despite that he still didn't let himself react to the gift where someone could have seen him. No sense in letting any spy know that he actually appreciated the trinkets. Blaine never mentioned the gifts when he was with Kurt, and Kurt made a point of not bringing them up either.

He kept up with his archery lessons with Blaine, who made slow progress but after that week had finally progressed to the point where Kurt was letting him use arrows.

"Steady. Remember to breath in when you pull back and let your breath go when you release." Kurt directed, standing behind Blaine as he looked ahead to the tree Kurt had designated as a target.

Blaine's breathes were too deep though, his hands still not steady enough, so it was no shock to Kurt when Blaine released and the arrow zipped right past the tree and off into the bush.

"Again."

Blaine used the whole pack of arrows, not hitting the tree once and getting more irritated and more shaken with each shot he took. Kurt quietly tutted but didn't comment. Blaine just needed to hit once to get his muscle memory to start working. One arrow would start him on the path to real archery training.

"Just relax for a minute. I'll go see if there's any of those arrows you shot laying on the ground that you can reuse. You're going to get this." Kurt said to Blaine as he walked by, pulling the fur collar of his coat up around his chin and trying to hold back the chilled shiver that was trying to escape from him.

There wasn't just one laying in the bush. He found several, but when he moved to collect one of the arrows he mistook a step.

"Ye-ow!"

The arrows he had already collected in his hands went flying into the air and scattered around him as he hit the ground on his back, feet falling out from under him. The crash of his body was followed by the rustling of branches being quickly moved out of the way and snow being crushed underfoot as Blaine ran up to him.

"Kurt!"

A symphony of curses flew from Kurt's mouth as he winced in pain before trying to stand up and yelping as pain shot up from both his tailbone and his ankle.

"Here…. here… let me help you." Blaine leaned forward and Kurt wrapped an arm around his shoulders, leaning his weight on to the shorter man as he helped lift Kurt up which drew another slew of swears from his normally muted mouth.

"You're bleeding…"

Kurt followed Blaine's gaze down to his ankle where blood was seeping out of a cut made on his boots. Looking over to where he had been laying, the culprit was of his own making - an arrow, now coating in his own blood sitting victoriously in the ice patch he had fallen on.

Blaine helped Kurt hobble back into the hut, which they were thankfully not to far from, and despite Kurt's insistence that he just needed to rest and bandage the wound up, Blaine ran for the town and the clinic as soon as he made sure Kurt was on the bed and a water bottle beside him.

Kurt took his time to peel his boots off and then his pants, each movement causing sharp pains to snap through him from either his now bruised tailbone or his ankle - sometimes both at the same time. When he did manage to free his foot though, he secretly thanked that Blaine was so insistent on getting help because it was clear the arrow had penetrated his flesh deeply, probably just missing the achilles tendon, and would need cleaning out and stitching.

Kitty was the one who came back with Blaine and grinned in delighted amusement when she saw Kurt laying back on his bed with only his thermal layer on and hiked up to his knees. Thermal layers didn't leave much to the imagination.

"Well now… I can see why David set his sights on you big boy." She winked and set down the kit she was holding on the end of the bed, opening it and sifting through it to get the supplies she was going to need.

Kurt just rolled his eyes and then shook his head to dismiss the questioning look in Blaine's eyes.

"You should check on the puppies and Pudding anyhow Blaine."

Blaine hesitated for awhile until Kitty shooed him away. "Go. I don't like audiences unless it's to appreciate my killer dance moves."

She took her time, and Kurt watched it all quietly, but Kitty did a good job and had him cleaned up and stitched up in no time. "I know you like to pretend you're a badass Hummel, but so I don't have to clean up all the blood you'll spill everywhere, you need to stay off that for a couple days while it binds back up - and then you need to take it easy after that."

"Thanks Kitty."

"My job." She shrugged and then packed up her gear. She was about to go when she caught sight of one of the bouquets of wildflowers. "Hey…"

He laughed it off, "Yah. Silly huh?"

"Silverleaf Psoralea, Blazingstars, Bedstraw, Fleabane…." She noted, tapping each of the mentioned flowers in turn as she listed them off.

"Right. Any use to you?"

"They all are actually…" She murmured quietly. "... How did you get these?"

"On my doorstep… I think Blaine's trying to win me over with gifts or something…"

Her eyes travelled then to the charm. "Huh."

"You can have those if you want. They're no use to me."

"No.. no… you keep them. Silverleaf makes a good tea for constipation - something you'll suffer if I need to kick you up the ass if you leave this bed before I said you could." She said, the humor returning to her voice as she looked back to Kurt with a plied on smirk.

He smiled back. Kurt was beginning to appreciate that Kitty was more than just snark and spazzing. She really did have a good mind and cared - even if it didn't show as well as it did in most people.

Blaine brought him both supper and the puppies that night, insisting that puppies could cure all kinds of ills with their kisses.

"They're going to make my place stink Blaine." Kurt protested with a grin.

"They're going to take your mind off the fact that you're hurting." Blaine stated, drawing a finger over the bandage on Kurt's ankle. "I'm sorry I missed. If I hadn't missed, you wouldn't have fallen on it…"

"You'll learn… then you'll kill me a nice juicy buck and make it up to me."

"With venison stew?"

"Forget the stew. You'll fry me up a steak."

Blaine chuckled and shook his head, drawing the blanket up over Kurt. "I don't think I have the killer instinct in me Kurt."

"Then it's a miracle you've survived so long."

"No miracle…." Blaine said softly, snuggling a puppy in his lap from where he sat on the edge of the bed. "... just made friends with the right people."

Kurt didn't make mention of the fact that those people were ready to toss Trent away when he got hurt. He didn't think Blaine would have lasted very long if it had been him under the quad and not Trent. No one but Blaine would have fought so hard to be heard and get help for a friend.

Being stuck in bed was difficult, and why Kurt avoided getting sick at all costs. This time though, Blaine was insistent company - going so far as to have Pudding and the puppies keep Kurt company when Blaine had to make runs into town for meals and to visit with Trent. They read books together, listened to music together, and Kurt watched as Blaine worked diligently to try and train the puppies. When his two days were up though, Kurt was happy to get up. He was not good at staying still so long.

He refused Blaine's insistent offer of a shoulder to lean against while he hobbled into town, and Blaine remained fixed at his side during the longer than normal trip, watching him with honey eyes that sparkled with concern. As they came in, they passed by Mercede's office where a group of individuals had just returned from a short scavenging trip that Kurt was supposed to have gone on. Karofsky was among those that had gone, and fixed Kurt with a worried gaze which Kurt deftly ignored as he continued onto the clinic for his check-up.

"Let me guess…." Kitty started as she saw the pair enter "... the mule here refused any help in walking?"

Blaine nodded her way and Kurt just huffed, sitting himself down on a bench, "Just check it out and make sure it isn't infected."

"Yes your highness." Was the snappy retort as she came and knelt down, unwrapping the bandaging and carefully inspecting his ankle, pressing in a few places, and then nodding. "Looks good…. but it could still open easily. You will take it easy and if you refuse someone helping you walk, you will use a cane or crutch for the next few days."

Kurt rolled his eyes, but instead of getting a look of returned amusement from Blaine, he got a serious look instead. Figures Blaine would take Kitty's side on that.

Kurt accepted a cane from the back room and left, sending Blaine ahead to get their meals ready so that by the time he walked his crippled self to the kitchen, he could just sit at a table. On the way though, he stopped to lean up against the side of one of the apartments to catch his breath.

"What the hell David!"

Kurt's eyes snapped over to the middle of the road where Kitty had left the clinic and intercepted Karofsky. He was in their blind spot from where he was leaning and couldn't help but hear them.

"Well that's no way to say hello when I've just gotten back from -"

"You're the one who was stealing from my indoor garden!"

The accusation seemed to catch Karofsky off guard as he didn't make any response. Kurt's interest was definitely piqued now and he shuffled in a little bit more to ensure he stayed out of their sight as he snooped.

"Don't you dare try to lie to me either. I saw the flowers at Kurt's place. You've been stealing from me in an attempt to woo him. Are you completely stupid?"

Oh.

"Kitty… come on… I just… I don't know how else…." A sigh.

"He doesn't feel that way about you. He's not going to. How many times do you have to hear no before it sinks into that dense skull of yours?"

"There's no one else though Kitty…."

"Oh please. There's over three hundred people around here. Statistically that means around 30 of them have to be queer in some way. Kurt is NOT the only one."

"You think I haven't considered that? There's me… Kurt… Santana, Brittany, Berry's dads, Unique…"

"That's only seven dumbass."

"So what am I supposed to do? Wait until someone else outs themselves? What if the other twenty three are kids right now or super old? Kurt's my age...we're from the same place…."

"... you beat him up."

More silence, then finally.

"You've found happiness…. I just… I just want the chance to find it too."

"Stealing the plants I'm growing to help everyone to try and seduce a guy you made bleed isn't going to make you happy David."

"I miss you you know…."

"You miss having someone around. Just because I'm living with Trent now doesn't mean I don't care about you any less, but David, you need to let him go. It's not going to happen."

"I have to…"

"And stealing a charm off my bracelet to give to him too? That's even worse."

"... I'm sorry."

Footsteps, then another sigh. Kurt waited for a moment to ensure the conversation was truly over and then hobbled to the kitchen to meet up with Blaine as his chest pounded.

"You okay? I knew I should have stayed back to help you." Blaine said, hopping up from the table he was sitting at in an attempt to try and help Kurt sit. An attempt which was pulled away from.

"I can do it myself Blaine." Kurt grumbled as he awkwardly shuffled into his seat, ignoring the curious glances of other community members as he slowly got himself comfortable.

Blaine went back to his seat and quietly watched Kurt as he ate.

Kurt's mind was too busy though to even focus on what he was eating or to summon up the energy to tell Blaine to stop staring. For the first time he felt truly bad for Karofsky, and, at the same time, completely idiotic for assuming that Blaine was the one sending him those gifts. Of course it had been Karofsky. He had, after all, assumed that Kurt wanted romance and someone as dense as Kitty had noted Karofsky was would presume romance could only be had in the form of gifts.

He should have been upset about being duped like that, angry that he was so stupid to assume that Blaine was the one sending him gifts.

Instead he was disappointed.

"You've been awfully quiet all day… I mean… moreso than you normally are." Blaine noted that evening, his fingers sliding once over the fresh bandage on Kurt's ankle.

"Just tired I guess."

Blaine snorted, "Right. You force yourself to stay awake night and day and insist you're fine and you've been sleeping just fine for the past couple days and now you say you're tired?"

Kurt rolled his eyes up and sighed. He should have come up with a more plausible excuse. "I've just been lost in MY OWN thoughts."

"Which you're not going to share of course."

"Right."

More silence. More conflicting thoughts. Self depreciation for not figuring out what should have been obvious. Irritation at Blaine for not having been the one giving him the gifts. Annoyance with himself for being disappointed that he wished it had been Blaine. Guilt for not acknowledging Karofsky's attempt to not be a total jerk. More self depreciation for feeling guilty when it came to the guy that beat him up.

His head spun like that for over a day until he took all his vexation on a tree with all the arrows he had. Kurt would have to make more arrows… a lot more arrows, and clear off the tree which looked like a flora version of a porcupine with all the fletched shafts sticking out of it at all angles, but he had at least calmed himself inside.

When Blaine walked by, returning from the town, and saw Kurt standing in front of the tree huffing for breath, he didn't even flinch. No comment - curious or witty. He just looked at the tree for a moment, dropped his head down and stayed in place a few feet away from Kurt.

"He must have told you."

Blaine nodded slowly, eyes fixed on the snow around his boots.

"You knew it was coming."

"I did…"

"You should be happy for him."

"I am."

"Could've fooled me." Kurt grunted, leaning over to pick up his cane and hobbling towards Blaine's shack.

"He's going to run the library and help with the school."

"Makes sense." Kurt said, sitting down on the ground inside of Blaine's hut by the door and letting the puppies crawl on him in greeting. It didn't take long for little rough tongues to lash all over his fingers and clean them off.

Blaine sat on the bed, slumped over and ignoring Pudding for the moment as she hopped up to sit aside him. "Just doesn't feel right… it's not like his tattoo will come off but he won't be a Warbler anymore… and…" a sigh, "I don't even know what I'm going on about."

"A tattoo doesn't determine who you are or what you'll do Blaine."

"I know."

"And you said yourself, you got it under the effects of alcohol."

"I would've gotten it sober."

"Is he your only friend in that pack of birds?"

Blaine summoned up a small smile at the quip about the Warblers and shook his head. "No. But he's my best friend of them all."

"So make a new best friend."

Honey eyes looked over the hands clasped together Blaine was leaning his chin against, "You say that like it's easy. How many best friends have you had in life?"

Kurt looked away then. Caught. He let a few puppies burrow into his lap and doze off there before finally saying anything more. "Would you say all of the Warblers are your friends."

"No."

"Most?"

"Not sure."

"What do you mean… not sure?" Kurt looked back over, eyebrow peaked.

"There's always been a conflict in how we operate and what we do, but status quo has remained because there's never any agreement… it's only gotten worse though over the years and there's little groups all within the whole of the Warbler group."

"Why don't people just go off and do what they want to then? Why should they have to stick with the group?"

"Because… it's all a lot of us have known for a long time. We're like brothers… even though we might not all like one another, we stick together."

"Well that's a damn stupid reason for sticking together." Kurt huffed, picking up Cookie and snuggling her against his chest as she was getting pushed out of his lap by the bigger puppies.

"Why do you stay here Kurt?"

"What?"

"Why do you stay here? You don't seem to get along with anyone really or even want to be doing what you're doing… Whenever you're out you seem miserable."

Kurt grumbled to himself with a roll of his eyes, "Fine. Point taken. I don't know what else I'd do."

Blaine nodded and finally put a hand between Pudding's ears, scratching between them. "Valentine's dance tomorrow."

"Patrolling."

"Even with your foot?"

"Even with my foot."

Kurt avoided town the next day until he needed to be on patrol. People always got excessively cute with one another during the day they assumed was Valentines (again, by his count that was a couple weeks ago), and it sent his gag reflex into overdrive. He didn't have the stomach to put up with it, or the little fluttering hearts the kids at school had cut out of paper and decorated the whole town with.

It was one holiday that should have gone under with The Tides as far as he was concerned, especially since his father had always joked it had been created by card companies.

The positive side of things was that because everyone was at the dance, there wasn't anyone else on the streets he shuffled down along, insistent on walking without the cane so his leg didn't get too weak. It was quiet, and rather mild outside for February, which meant he didn't have to keep his fur hood up to keep his ears warm.

"Mind if I walk with you?"

The voice always made him tense up. No matter how long it had been, he would never be completely comfortable around Karofsky. "Fine."

For awhile, they walked in silence. David had his weapon of choice, an axe, swinging lazily off to the side in his hand opposite Kurt.

"Why aren't you at the dance?"

"Patrolling."

Kurt's eyebrows quirked up. "Usually I end up stuck with some kid who lost a draw for patrolling during dances."

"I knew you weren't going to go… so I figured there was no point in my going."

"Karofsky… - "

"David."

"David… You shouldn't have given me all that stuff… and you should take back the stuff you stole from Kitty. It's not right."

Karofsky nodded aside him. "I know. I just… I didn't know what else to do."

"We're not going to be a thing David. I'm sorry."

They continued walking, David keeping his pace slow to account for Kurt's handicap, and didn't speak. Eventually Kurt finally admitted to himself that he needed a break before his leg fell out from under him and went to lean against a railing by the kitchen, David following suite beside him.

"He's leaving you know."

"Hmm?"

"Blaine. In the spring he'll be gone and you'll be alone."

"What does he have to do with anything?"

Karofsky sighed slowly and deeply. "I know Kurt… You've been as happy… well, less angry anyhow. I see the way he looks at you… there's no way you'd put up with him being so close if there wasn't more going on…."

"Blaine and I aren't a thing David."

"Maybe not… but once he's gone, you'll be alone again, and I think you'll find it'll be harder to go back to than you're assuming it will be."

"I never stopped being alone David."

"I don't understand why you put up these walls Kurt… I know some of us, me in particular, have hurt you in the past… but we wouldn't anymore…. You don't need to be afraid of anyone, least of all me."

Kurt looked to his side, eyes intently looking back at Karofsky who looked so hopeful with that little speech of his. "Have you ever considered David, that maybe I isolate myself from you all not because I'm afraid of you, but because you all should be afraid of me?"

That seemed to take a little wind out of Karofsky as he sucked back a breath and his eyes opened all the way, "What do you mean by that?"

Kurt stood up and turned himself to face the other man. "After you hurt me, after my dad died, I couldn't sleep. I stayed awake at night, thinking about ways to hurt you and the others who attacked me with you. I came up with hundreds of ways to hurt you back, each more gruesome than the last. Each one designed to make you suffer."

As Kurt continued, he couldn't help but smirk at the sight of Karofsky's adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

"I didn't take up archery initially to hunt. I took it up because I thought it would be the best way to initially incapacitate you before I tortured you. I had this grand plan, and I had absolutely nothing to lose anymore."

"So…" Karofsky's voice squeaked, making him swallow down his obvious discomfort before continuing. "So… why didn't you?"

Kurt looked back away, "Noah was off trying to collect firewood and Quinn had just had Beth… she cried all the time and Quinn was crying because she didn't know how to make Beth stop crying. I was angry. I hadn't been able to get a solid nights sleep in months and now there was this baby just screaming and screaming… add to it her mother blubbering as well. I grabbed Beth, intending to take her to some mother that knew more than Quinn… and then… she stopped. She snuggled up against me and fell asleep. No one dared take her away from me in fear she'd start wailing again… so I held her all night… and as she slept, so did I… Every night for a month I went over to Quinn's to hold her at night so Quinn could sleep and, in that time, I would be able to as well…. eventually I regained my sanity and with it the remembrance of my father and what kind of person he was. I couldn't do dishonor to his memory by hurting anyone else…"

Karofsky's adam's apple bobbed one again, and he was quiet for a moment until he seemed sure that Kurt was done talking. "Well… I guess….."

"If anything were to happen again though, I know how easily I'd snap. It's better that I'm away."

"Kurt…."

"And even if all that doesn't dissuade you, the fact that, even now, when I think of you I still remember all the ways I came up with to kill you should."

Quiet. Then finally Karofsky nodded once and Kurt felt like a well had burst inside him at the miracle of getting through to the big, daft man finally.

"So Blaine…?"

"Is going in the spring, like you said."

"Okay."

They leaned back against the rails for a few more minutes, until Karofsky excused himself to continue patrolling around town. Once he left, Kurt breathed relief and let his eyes drift up to the moon hanging low overhead.

Lying exhausted him.

That part about Beth had been true at least. Everyone knew about Kurt's weird baby whispering ability, but Kurt had never thought up ways to kill anyone. Even in his worst moments, he had only ever wished he had died along with his father. He had to give himself credit though for coming up with something like that to scare off Karofsky on the fly though. Maybe now Karofsky would back off.

As for Blaine…

Well that was something Kurt was going to have to come to terms with whether or not he wanted to. There could be nothing between them because Kurt couldn't handle one more thing in his life ending. If there was nothing between them, then nothing would end between them.

At least that made sense in his mind up until this moment when he actually thought about it.

Sometimes his subconscious was a moron.

Kurt shoved off from the railing and hobbled towards the main hall, hearing it well before he got near it. Music was being played in there. No tune he could distinguish, especially with the din of voices and stomps of people dancing drowning it out. He didn't get too close though, holding back and just watching silhouettes laughing and talking outside of the opened doors which had even more figures dancing and swaying inside. Kurt forced his hips to stay still the instant they tried to move to the beat and just watched from his place for a few minutes.

It was after those few minutes that a figure seemed to take notice of Kurt and started walking his way. It didn't take long for Kurt to see it was Blaine - few others had curls like that, bouncing against his head with each step.

"Hey stranger!"

"Hey."

Blaine had his hands shoved deep into his pockets, the cold out where Kurt had been standing much more insistent than in the hall where warm bodies in motion probably kept it quiet warm in comparison. "I thought you don't come to these."

"I don't."

"Patrolling?"

Kurt nodded.

"And yet you still ended up here."

Kurt chuckled and gave his head a shake, "Don't make it sound like I'm ready to take up dancing."

Blaine laughed and his eyes gave off a twinkle as the moonlight bounced off them. "Like you could dance with that bum foot of yours."

Kurt arched an eyebrow, catching on to Blaine's mischievous tone, "Are you trying to lure me into dancing with you to prove that I'm not broken?"

"Maybe…" Honey eyes flickered with amusement.

"Machismo strategies like that might work on the average guy out here Blaine, but not me."

Blaine's smile didn't falter as he kept looking at Kurt, "You're not an average guy."

The smile was returned, "No, I'm not."

With a glance over his shoulder at the party behind him, Blaine asked, "How much patrolling is needed right now?"

"Blaine…"

"I mean it." Amber eyes locked with blue once more. "There's no threat out here and your leg is hurt anyhow…."

"Look. I didn't watch a lot of horror movies back before The Tides, but I know underestimating a potential threat gets people killed."

"Good thing that only happens in the movies then huh?"

Kurt pursed his lips together, eyes scrunching up at he looked at Blaine. He had never abandoned his post, and as much as a little romp in the sack sounded appealing, he wasn't about to risk the lives of others for it.

Blaine, thankfully, picked up on that.

"Alright, alright… but at least let me walk around in circles with you. God knows I couldn't be any more bored doing that than I was in there watching Kitty and Trent grind against one another."

Kurt laughed and nodded, starting to walk and having Blaine join him at his side. "Might be some baby Warblers if that keeps up!"

Blaine's nose wrinkled up, "Weird to think about…"

"Them having kids?"

"Trent doing grown-up stuff. When you're with a group of guys all the same age you tend to digress a little bit too easily into a more juvenile mind set."

"Mmmm…" Kurt could understand that.

"Oh! You'll never guess who managed to end up dancing together!"

Kurt looked to his side, "Just tell me."

"I FINALLY managed to convince Sam to ask Mercedes to dance."

Kurt was impressed. "Really? That only took years to happen…."

"I convinced him that he was drunk enough to do it even though I had only been giving him watered down apple cider."

Kurt laughed. "And that was all it took?"

Blaine nodded, a triumphant grin on his face, "They didn't leave each other's arms all evening. They'll make great looking mocha babies."

Kurt rolled his eyes. He had no doubt there would be a baby boom in the fall. There always was after all. Only so much to do in the winter and dances tended to bring out the sex fiends in people. Most of the kids born post-Tides were born in October.

"Guess we don't have to worry about that huh?"

"Really Blaine? A gay guys not making babies joke?" Kurt snorted and shook his head.

"I know. It was weak. I've been hanging out with Sam too much and my sense of humor has suffered for it."

They laughed, bantered back and forth, and walked for the rest of the night well past the death of the party. Kurt couldn't remember the last time he had enjoyed patrolling, if he ever had before.


	15. Chapter 14: Good-Bye

_**"He wept, and it felt as if the tears were cleansing him, as if his body needed to empty itself." - Lois Lowry, Messenger**_

Kurt watched as Blaine blew warm air into the pocket between his hands. They were out on a scavenging run and Blaine had made the mistake earlier of saying it was a nice day. Now they were all huddled inside a house together trying to stay warm while Noah set up a fire.

"Ahh… don't anyone use that upstairs toilet. I left my mark there!" Santana said triumphantly as she joined the ground again, descending the staircase.

Noses were wrinkled up and brows arched. Blaine looked over at Kurt in question and Kurt just shook his head.

Santana could be vile, and it was best to leave it at that.

"Got it!" Noah yelled as a flame burst up several feet away in the fireplace. Everyone moved in and let the heat fall over them. Kurt shut his eyes and let himself bask until he was heated back up and then stood up. "I'll go collect blankets so we can all sleep here tonight."

Finding blankets wasn't actually that hard. It was finding blankets that hadn't been overtaken by bedbugs or used by wild animals that was more difficult. Thankfully, the owners of this particular home had a linen closet with a good supply of blankets and sheets that had been hidden away and still even smelled a little bit like laundry detergent. He even found a stash of pillows in the closet - a special treat for the night.

"So all I'm saying curls… is that you spend a night with my girl and then her and I can have ourselves a kid. It's not like it would be too hard on your part… well it would, but that's kind of the point…"

Kurt walked in, eyebrows raising sky high as he heard Santana's words and then saw Blaine, looking absolutely aghast and trying to seek out an escape route.

"Honestly Santana?"

She turned her head towards Kurt, "Well, yeah. He's leaving anyhow so it wouldn't make things all awkward if he daddied a baby for Brit and I."

"Ugh. Leave him alone…" Kurt grunted, handing out the blankets to Sam and Noah, who both seemed rather entertained by the conversation they had been witnessing, and then to Blaine and Santana.

"Yah… as enticing Brittany is, I'm sure, to most people…." Blaine started, trying to find the right words to let Santana down.

"You're queerer than a three dollar bill. I know. All the more reason to do it. Spread your seed!"

Kurt winced a little. He wasn't sure how many other people knew about Blaine's sexuality, but the lack of surprise on Sam and Noah's faces suggested they knew and didn't care.

"I'm sure you'll find someone." Blaine said, shutting her down finally. He looked over to Kurt then, thanking him for the blanket and pillow which all of them had begun to spread out.

"Any of your birdie friends have quality seed?"

That made Blaine cough a little, look to Kurt for support, getting only a shrug, and then looked back at Santana, "Frankly… I, well I can't speak for all of them, and I wouldn't suggest the one I could speak for."

"Hmm… Bet a Wolf Pack member would have been all over it." Santana tutted as she stripped down to her thermalwear and climbed into her makeshift bed.

"She scares me." Blaine whispered over to Kurt as Kurt slid into his own bed, right beside Blaine's.

"She should." Kurt whispered back and winked with a smile.

He had allowed Noah to stand watch, much to Noah's surprise. As the winter bore on, Kurt found that sleep, when it was peaceful, was actually quite enjoyable. He guessed he had Blaine to thank for that, though he'd never say so out loud.

Kurt was woken up a few hours later by Noah, not even realizing he'd fallen asleep and grumbled acknowledgement. It was his turn on shift. He went to sit up and found that Blaine, in that few hours, had managed to sneak up alongside him and had an arm held over Kurt.

An arm which was unceremonious lifted off him and dumped back onto the scrunched up mess of Blaine's bed, causing the curly headed man to whine softly in his sleep, his eyes crinkling up in unconscious disapproval.

"Ain't he just a ball of adorable." Noah said overhead and Kurt turned to look up at him.

"Got something to say to me Puckerman?"

Hands were held high and Noah backed up a step, "What?! No man… just making observations. Going to sleep now alright?"

Kurt gave him a short nod and shuffled out of his bed, slipping his outerwear back on, slinging his arrow pack on over his back and grabbing his bow as he sat himself in front of the window, spending the next few hours listening to the symphony of snoring and wheezing coming from the floor of the room they were in until they each woke up, had their breakfast, and braved the aftermath of the blizzard from the night before.

House to house they went, collecting as per usual until there wasn't enough space left for them to carry anything back with. Trent had requested more fiction books for the library, complaining that there was too many how-to books and medical books and not enough to entice creative minds. Micheal, as always, requested any antibiotics and medication they could come across. Kitty wanted herbs and spices from the kitchens they ransacked, and Rachel had complained that the students were woefully short on crayons.

"Found that mesophilic culture shit you were looking for Blaine!" Santana called out in one house, causing Blaine to run over.

Kurt looked down at his own list, not seeing mesophilic culture on it anywhere. Either that was something Blaine was personally after or it was a favour to someone. In any case, Kurt didn't even know offhand what mesophilic culture was.

"Graham crackers!" Santana called to Blaine at another home, and again he ran over.

"Planning to make something?" Kurt asked when they were walking again.

Blaine blinked a few times, "Well… not me… Brittany actually. A secret."

"Ah… for Santana. Gotcha. Clever getting Santana to help with her own surprise." Kurt mused.

Blaine chuckled softly and just nodded.

They didn't get back to the forest where they had left the forest until close to nightfall, and then just opted to leave for the village that night as no one wanted to stay overnight in the frozen outdoors any longer than they had to.

By the time they got in the next morning, Kurt barely made it to his hut before he passed out. He had clearly grown too used to getting a regular nights sleep.

When he woke up this time, he discovered he had been covered in puppies - several of which were licking his face raw.

"Augh…" He covered his face up and sat up, causing the puppies to roll down the bed a bit where they began to play with one another as if nothing had interrupted them. From the end of the bed, Pudding looked at Kurt and wagged her tail against the bed. Blaine, the jerk, was no where in sight.

"So apparently I'm dog sitting." Kurt grumbled as he wiped the sleep from his eyes.

Despite being outwardly grouchy about it, Kurt knew he only had so many days left with the pups. They were weaned and ready to go to their new homes. All that was left was for Blaine to give the okay to their new owners to come and get them. He spent the morning playing with them, mostly wrestling with his hands - they needed to be warriors he decided.

When Blaine returned, he was carrying a phone, one that Kurt knew didn't have any music on it and handed it over to Kurt.

"For you to record yourself singing for me."

Kurt arched his brows up as he looked at the device in his hand. He had forgotten all about Blaine's request for a song, but he did seem to recall not agreeing, though he didn't say no either.

"I don't know if your ears can stand the torture…"

Blaine chuckled and sat on the edge of Kurt's bed, scooping up the closest puppy and nuzzling his face into the baby-fine fur with an appreciative hum. "Your voice is far from torture. Please?"

Kurt sighed and set the phone to his side. "Do I have to do it right now?"

"No… just… before I go? Please?"

Kurt nodded. He had no idea what he would sing, but he was sure he could think up something - even if it was itsy bitsy spider just to appease Blaine. He had lots of time to figure it out anyhow.

Except, as soon as he thought that, the days seemed to go faster and faster. The pups were adopted out, leaving Blaine and Kurt to share Pudding, who seemed happy to be the only dog around to get attention. The first little buds appeared on the deciduous trees in the area, even though snow still lined the ground, and people were already talking about Easter celebrations.

Blaine was still awful at archery, but at least now he could at least hit a tree. Trent was walking without any help, though would forever have a very noticeable limp, and Kurt… well Kurt's heart ached every time he saw a new sign of spring forcing its way into his sight.

It was when Kurt saw the snow begin to melt that he grabbed the phone Blaine had given him and hid himself away in his hut. For an hour he stared at the phone, trying to figure out what to sing. He didn't want to sing anything that was already on one of the other phones. Kurt wanted something that couldn't be compared to what Blaine already had.

There was only one choice.

He pressed the buttons Blaine had shown him and then took in a shaky breath when he saw the red button flashing to tell him he was being recorded.

"There's a song… a song my mom used to sing to me when I was growing up… It's the only reason I think I remember her voice even now because when I hear that song in my head, it's her voice that's singing it. When she died, I used to sing myself to sleep with it… and when my dad died… I sung it for the last time… anyhow…"

He had to swallow back his tears then. He knew the song by heart, even though he hadn't sung it for years. With a shuddering breath, he began.

Oh yeah, I'll tell you something  
I think you'll understand  
When I'll say that something  
I wanna hold your hand  
I wanna hold your hand  
I wanna hold your hand

Oh please, say to me  
You'll let me be your man  
And please, say to me  
You'll let me hold your hand  
I'll let me hold your hand  
I wanna hold your hand

And when I touch you I feel happy  
Inside  
It's such a feeling that my love  
I can't hide  
I can't hide  
I can't hide

Yeah, you've got that something  
I think you'll understand  
When I'll say that something  
I wanna hold your hand  
I wanna hold your hand  
I wanna hold your hand

And when I touch you I feel happy  
Inside  
It's such a feeling that my love  
I can't hide  
I can't hide  
I can't hide

Yeah, you've got that something  
I think you'll understand  
When I'll feel that something  
I wanna hold your hand  
I wanna hold your hand  
I wanna hold your hand  
I wanna hold your hand

Kurt hit the button again once he was done and began sobbing softly. It was the first time he had cried openly since… since he didn't even know when. On one hand it brought back all the memories of his mother and father back to the forefront of his mind. On the other hand, it was exactly the right song to sing. He certainly didn't know how to tell Blaine how he felt, and wasn't willing to have that type of conversation with him, but he could at least sing it and let the other man read between the lines.

Once he had calmed himself, Kurt dropped the phone off to Blaine's home, setting it on the bed. Blaine was out - probably helping with one of the story times in the library that had become quite popular among the children there. Blaine was phenomenal at doing different voices and even acted out some of the scenes as he read them. The kids loved it.

Sometimes Kurt would sneak in to watch him under the pretense of building more shelves for future book use. It didn't matter whether Blaine was reading a book about pirates or princesses - he was always animated and always put a smile on all the kids faces.

Who was Kurt kidding? Hiding his face away from the crowd, he would be smiling too.

"Kurt..?"

Lost in his daydreams, Kurt had spent the rest of the afternoon shooting up into the tree's, knocking down pinecones. Rachel wanted some for some kind of craft she was going to do with the kids, and while it would have been easier and more efficient to just shake the tree and let them fall, it was more therapeutic to just shoot them down.

"What is it Blaine?" Kurt responded, targeting his next pinecone.

"I got… well… I listened to…."

Kurt didn't dare look at him. He didn't want to see the disappointment or the humor Blaine must have felt. He was the one who asked for a song after all. Kurt wasn't going to give it another try in the hopes it would somehow be better.

"It was beautiful Kurt… Thank you."

The arrow swished through the air and the only indication that it hit its target was a rustle and then a small thump on the ground where the pinecone landed.

"Won't be long until your Warblers come back for you. I'll bet they're already on their way." Kurt lined up another shot.

Slushy snow slopped behind him as Blaine came up beside him and set a hand on his shoulder. Months ago he would have flinched. Now the gesture seemed as normal as anything. "They probably are."

"You can get back to your life and…." Another arrow escaped and a snap and shudder from the tree marked another success. "... forget about our quaint little place away from all the excitement you're used to."

"Hmm…" Blaine's eyes followed the next arrow Kurt aimed. "... what about you? Will you go back to Karofsky?"

"What?!" Kurt's arrow left the bow, but this time all that followed was a crunch as it hit some bushes as Kurt turned to look at Blaine incredulously. "What on earth are you talking about?"

Blaine, for his part, looked surprised that Kurt would respond that way. "I've overheard you… talk to him a couple times… I've seen him leave gifts… it's like he's trying to win you back."

Kurt involuntarily made a small retching sound and shook his head, "I have never, ever, been with anyone else Blaine."

"But, you must have had other lovers… other…"

"I've been with one man Blaine." Kurt looked away and pulled the last arrow from his pack.

"So… yah… me and that one other man…"

"Check your math Blaine. One means only one."

Blaine was quiet then, the realization coming over him as Kurt took his final shot and then slipped his bow over his back as he went to collect the dropped pinecones and toss them into the now empty pack.

"You mean I….?" Blaine's voice was accented by a tremor as he posed the question, locked in the same place Kurt had been shooting from.

"Yes."

"And I…."

"Just yes Blaine." Kurt looked back at his pallid face, eyes gone wide with shock, "It's not like there's a gay bar out here I can check out - and Karofsky has, and always will be, a definite no in my life."

"But I was horrible Kurt… I didn't know…. and…"

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Blaine, don't worry about it. I'm not some silly romantic like I was as a kid. I didn't have any expectations. Hell, I'm surprised it's happened for me at all. And you've been more than alright since that first time, so don't worry about it."

Blaine meekly nodded, then managed to squeak out, "I'm going to go… check the radio… it's almost the time of day they said they'd be transmitting at when they got back…."

Kurt just nodded and continued gathering the pinecones, filling up his pack as much as he could and then making the delivery to the school. The front of the schoolhouse already had the snow melted, exposing the swampy frozen bits of grass underneath. He kicked at that bit of grass, angry at it for existing, angry that it dared to show.

Angry at himself for falling for Blaine when all throughout the winter he had told himself not to.

"Hey Kurt!" Mercedes sing-song voice called out after him when he was on his way back. She asked him to complete a few chores around town that only she trusted him with. Of course, when it came to Mercedes, a few chores was more like a full page list.

Coyotes had been spotted around the herds and she wanted some snares and traps put in place to protect the livestock.

There was a tractor she wanted him to look at to prepare for spring planting.

She wanted him to help show some new workers how to stitch saddle leather together properly.

His opinion was needed on the placement of a new watchtower.

And the list went on.

Over the next few days, Kurt helped Mercedes with the list inbetween hunting and patrolling. Blaine seemed to keep his distance, clearly put off by the fact that Kurt was just a lowly virgin when he had met him. At least, that's what Kurt assumed.

"They're… they're here."

Kurt looked up from petting Pudding, forcing his eyes as best they could not to betray any emotion.

"You go tomorrow then?"

Blaine nodded. "Can I… Can I ask you to spend the evening with me? Please?"

Kurt stood up, "I have some things I need to finish for Mercedes and -"

"Please Kurt."

"Alright."

Blaine beamed and left him alone then, skipping off to do god knew what and leaving Kurt to wonder first of all when evening began in Blaine's mind and if he was expecting anything of Kurt.

So Kurt stepped out into a place he hadn't in months, just yards away from his hut, and dug into the still frozen dirt with every ounce of strength he had in him. What took a few minutes in the fall, took him nearly an hour in the thaw of spring, but he managed to find what he was looking for.

The can of peaches.

With the sun on the horizon, he decided to go over to Blaine's lest he lose his nerve. There were only so many hours left of him after all, before….

Kurt couldn't even think it.

The door opened and Blaine beamed, sending Pudding outside and opening the door fully for Kurt.

"Is that…?"

"The peaches you gave me… yeah… I thought it would make a nice treat."

Blaine just grinned, and as Kurt set the can down, he noticed the fire was burning exceptionally hot and there were pots and kettles all around it, all with water in various states of boiling. Glancing further around, he saw that Blaine had been busy. Where he normally had the cargo bins sitting, was now an open pit in the ground that he most certainly would have had to been working on for awhile to get that big. Certainly longer than just the afternoon. It was lined with an old tarp and halfway full of steaming water.

"What… is that…?"

"For you." Blaine said, taking a bubbling pot and dumping it in with the rest of the water. "You never did get hypothermia this winter but I thought you deserved a hot bath anyhow."

"But…." Kurt's eyes went round as he stared at the makeshift tub. He couldn't come up with any arguments as to why he shouldn't take advantage of the gesture and Blaine was looking at him so earnestly. With a shrug of his shoulders, he let his coat drop to the ground and then peeled out of his clothes and thermal layers before dipping a toe into the water.

It was delightly hot.

"I had to borrow pots and kettles from everyone I knew so you'd better enjoy it."

He slipped one foot in, and then the next, before sitting himself down into the small spot and letting his porcelain skin turn rose. Steam drifted all around his upper body and face, and before he realized Blaine was there, a small pitcher was dunked in the water and poured gently over his hair and down the back of his neck.

"Oh… dear….. god…. this is amazing."

"Here…" Blaine pressed a couple small bottles into Kurt's hands. Hotel sized portions of shampoo and conditioner he must have found or traded for.

As Kurt scrubbed his hair, and ignored the layer of film that had built up on the top layer of the water caused by the filth he wasn't able to sponge off with his daily washings, Blaine periodically poured another pot or kettle full of water into the tub, allowing the water level to rise until Kurt was submerged to his armpits.

"I'm never going to want to come out of here." Kurt murmured, setting his freshly cleaned mop of hair back against the crinkled tarp edge.

"You smell like cinnamon…."

"You picked good stuff."

"Well I'm not a total hobo."

They laughed and Kurt squirmed back a little, "You know, you'd probably fit in my lap in here."

"The bath's for you Kurt. Besides, I have to go grab something else." Blaine said as he pulled his own coat on and slipped out the door, leaving Kurt to relax for a few solitary minutes, intending to appreciate this tub until all the water had gone cold.

Blaine shuffled back into, teeth chattering as he complained about a strong wind outside and set down a casserole dish. Kurt looked at it curiously, but let Blaine take off his own coat before asking.

"What's that?"

"This… is a long overdue promise."

The lid of the dish was removed and the dish tilted so that Kurt could see inside.

"Is… that…?"

"Cheesecake…. at least Brittany tells me it is. I got all the ingredients she told me I needed for her to make it."

Kurt splashed the water over the edge of the tub as he slid himself forward and towards Blaine, "Really?"

Honey eyes twinkled towards Kurt. "Really really."

A piece was dished up, and, as an afterthought, Blaine buffed open the lid of the peaches with a flat stone by the fire and set a few of the pieces alongside the cheesecake before handing it to Kurt. "Enjoy."

Kurt held the plate in his hands, just staring at the cake for a moment as he pulled his lower lips into his mouth by his top teeth. His mind chanting over and over that he was in a hot bath and he had cheesecake in his hands. It was surreal.

"Is… is something wrong with it?"

Kurt shook his head slowly, "No. No. Everything is perfect." He looked up, "Thank you."

Those honey eyes said 'You're Welcome' well before Blaine vocalized it and Kurt settled back in his tub and gingerly slid his fork through the cheesecake and lifted a piece to his mouth while Blaine watched with baited breath for his reaction once the piece made it's way into Kurt's mouth.

"Ooo…" Kurt moaned, licking off his lips for any bits that might have caught on them, "... I can die happy now."

Blaine clapped his hands together and laughed in victory before taking a bite of his own piece. More moans of appreciation were exchanged and both of them took their time in eating the treat that Kurt knew he likely wouldn't get again for a long time, if ever.

When he had finished off his piece, and made sure the plate was clean of crumbs, he set the plate on the edge of the little tub and sat back again in the water. "So… hot tub… cheesecake… what's next? You going to bring my father back from the dead?"

It sounded funnier in his head.

Blaine frowned and shook his head, kneeling down by the tub, "No. But I was kind of hoping you'd stay the night…"

Kurt's heart sped up and he glanced to the bed. He had been so good at avoiding staying longer than necessary there. He didn't want to get attached. He couldn't.

It was the last night he would ever see Blaine.

"Alright."

He half expected Blaine to clap and do another little victory cheer, but all that he got was a happy smile as Blaine took the empty plates and set them to the side. More water was poured into the tub to keep the temperature warm and Kurt let himself enjoy it. Even when he took over this cabin, he knew he wouldn't be able to justify using up this much water on…

His head shot up, "How'd you get all this water?!"

Blaine looked over, nonplussed, "I've been saving it."

"Saving it?"

Blaine nodded, "Since I got the idea a couple months ago…."

"From your own…?"

Blaine nodded once more.

Kurt groaned and relaxed back again, looking up at the ceiling, "You shouldn't have wasted all that water on me… you need that to survive…"

"I'm fine." Blaine insisted. "I've gotten by on less daily for years than what you ration here. Besides… I wanted to make you happy."

You have.

But Kurt doesn't say that. He stays quiet and simmers in the tub until he's beyond wrinkled and he's sure the bath has gotten rid of dirt that has been embedded in him for years. When he climbs out, Blaine is ready with a big fluffy towel that he's pulled out from one of his bags.

The night has just been full of too good to be true surprises. The towel is the latest icing on the cake. No one just had big fluffy towels anymore, certainly not ones that don't have that crunchy dried out feeling from air drying.

"Where'd you get this?" Kurt asked as he wound the towel around himself, sighing happily with the feel of soft cotton against his clean skin.

"On one of our runs. It was all I could fit in my bag."

"And you saved it until now?!" Kurt gently rubbed the towel against him, marvelling at how well a nice towel actually picked up the beads of water on his skin.

"I honestly didn't know what I was saving it for until I saw you come out of the water just now." Blaine admitted sheepishly.

"You're a marvel Blaine." Kurt admitted then, sitting back on the mattress and pulling the towel up to rub through his hair. He knew Blaine's eyes would be wandering down to his now naked lower half, but he's been naked in front of Blaine so many times before this point that he didn't care, and, in fact, he was kind of betting on it.

"I'm afraid to touch you now that you're so clean…."

Kurt smirks coyly, letting the towel fall behind him as he glances over at Blaine, now sitting aside him on the bed, with a hand hovering over Kurt's naked thigh. Kurt was right, Blaine's eyes are locked on his crotch and the sight of a man so clearly interested in him makes his cock bob a little as it becomes interested in turn.

"Then let me."

Kurt moves fluidly toward Blaine, his body leaning into the other man's. His hands grab each side of Blaine's coat and push it back, off of Blaine and onto the floor. Below them, Blaine is kicking off his boots with urgency, making clunking sounds against the floor as he does it, and then uses his toes to peel off his socks.

By the time Blaine's feet are naked, Kurt has attached their lips. He hasn't really explored Blaine's mouth in all their time together, remembering how he used to watch and worship Pretty Woman as a child and internalizing that kissing is somehow more important than sex, but Blaine is leaving tomorrow and Kurt doesn't want to regret not taking the time to savour those pink lips as much as he can.

So he does.

It seems to surprise Blaine just a little, how forward Kurt is being, as he submits to being used for his lips while Kurt's hands continue to undress him, button by button, clasp by clasp, sleeves off, pant legs off, until Blaine is just as naked as he is and still avoiding putting his hands on Kurt's skin and instead ghosting them over his arms and down his back but never really touching him.

So Kurt reaches back and forces one of Blaine's hands to his waist, and the other one settles down symmetrically on the other side.

All this time though, Kurt is letting his lips become swollen and plush as he continues grazing them against Blaine's as he tries to perfect this skill he'll probably never use again.

Now free to touch Kurt, Blaine's hands slide down on either side of him and cup his cheeks, gently massaging them with calloused, rough fingers. He starts to whisper between pecks, "Do you want -" but is silenced by Kurt pressing down hard until they both need air and the only thing they can do when they separate is make little gasps for breath.

"Just… please Blaine. Don't talk tonight… not anymore. Just be with me." Kurt utters quietly, not quite looking at Blaine when he says it and then drops his head to Blaine's neck where he intends to leave a hickey so that Blaine will know that Kurt was his alone at least for a few days after they part. In response all Blaine can do is moan deliciously and drop his head back to the pillow, his erection below Kurt rutting weakly upwards against Kurt's stomach as it seeks out the friction it needs.

Kurt takes his time. They have all night after all, pressing kisses into Blaine's skin wherever it looks untouched. He leaves a trail of dark purpled skin where his lips hung on just that little bit too long, and as he lifts his head to look at his handiwork, he can't help but grin. Blaine is a sight to behold on his own - beautiful and exotic, all olive with small curls of hair that are never out of place, and now he's been marked by Kurt, like he belongs to him.

Kurt doesn't stay lingering above Blaine for long though - the call of that beautiful cock too much to ignore. He drops his head down over his and purposely moans as his mouth engulfs it, knowing now what that vibration feels like. His moan is echoed in Blaine, whose hips struggle to stay in place and not just jerk upwards to drown himself in Kurt's throat.

Like his body, Kurt takes it slowly, lavishing Blaine with his tongue and letting it coil around his cock as he bobs his head up and down, sometimes lifting his head off completely so he can just worship the erection solely with his tongue and nothing more.

Blaine's carnal instincts come out after several minutes of this and with a growl he leans down and cups Kurt under his armpits, pulling him up atop him. In truth, Kurt lets this happen because he could fight it if he wanted to. He doesn't want to though. He likes it when Blaine takes some control and makes him feel like something to be desired. He'd never admit it, but Kurt loves it when Blaine is a little rough with him despite how things began between them.

He's rolled over so Kurt is now below Blaine and Blaine wrenches back so quickly that Kurt just hopes he doesn't give himself whiplash. He can't think of anything more though soon after that because it's Blaine now going down on him and his mind seems to get completely fuzzy when that happens so he just embraces the trillings of pleasure coursing up and down his body as Blaine continues the bath he just had but only using his tongue on Kurt's cock.

When he hears Blaine unpop the cap off a bottle of lube, his legs spread apart automatically. A finger glides in and rolls itself in and out of Kurt, bumping back against the nub within him that takes his fuzzy feelings and spreads them down from just his head and all over his body. Blaine knows him too well by this point and knows exactly how to make him weak. He can have this done in a matter of minutes if he wanted to, but given how slowly Blaine is working him open, he has the sense that Blaine wants to take his time just as much as Kurt does.

A second finger is added eventually, and fingers stretch and scissor Kurt apart. Just knowing that it'll be Blaine in there soon makes Kurt moan loudly enough that Pudding starts howling from outside. If they had been in the throes of a quickie, it might make them both break into laughter, but for now they both ignore it.

There's a third finger then and the scissoring goes three ways. By this point Kurt is writhing below Blaine and uttering complete nonsense. Three fingers and a mouth on your cock is a lot to handle, especially when they all seem to work so expertly.

Kurt hears Blaine murmur as small "Shh…" before he even fully realizes that Blaine has lifted his head off his cock. He looks down over the span of his body with slitted eyes towards Blaine, coating himself in lubricant and working it up and down the length of his shaft. He's breathing heavily and slowly, and as the fingers of one hand are pulled out of Kurt, they're replaces with the fingers of Blaine's other hand which guides his cock to Kurt's ready pucker.

When Blaine does push into him, it's a slow stretch. Blaine has never pushed into him as hard and as fast as he did that first night, always allowing Kurt's body to adjust to the fact that he's definitely longer and wider than the three fingers he uses to prep Kurt so it always feels good. There's nothing awful or painful about it by the time he's all the way inside of Kurt, just… bliss.

Tonight, instead of clenching his eyes shut and riding out his orgasm, Kurt forces his eyes open as he watches Blaine thrust back and forth into him. He keeps his hands on Blaine's shoulders and guides him down periodically for sweet kisses. Both of their foreheads brim with sweat from holding back and Kurt knows he can't stop what's coming as much as he wants to. He can't delay it anymore.

With one particularly well placed thrust against his prostate, Kurt gasps and cries out. Still he keeps his eyes locked open, connecting his eyes with Blaine's as he comes, committing this feeling and moment to memory.

He'll need it on those long, lonely nights.

Blaine comes as Kurt does, holding himself steady inside of Kurt as he orgasms with a throaty groan. When he collapses atop Kurt, he connects their lips once again, and both of them kiss lazily until they're both boneless and the fact that they're a mess comes into focus.

Clean-up is quiet. Blaine pours the last of the water into the tub and they both stand up in it, using rags to wash off their bodies and use the last little bit of hotel soap to scrub themselves clean - Blaine in particular who got the majority of Kurt's mess stuck in his chest hair. The towel is used to dry them both up and, taking Blaine's outstretched hand, Kurt is led back into the bed where Blaine pulls a blanket up over them both.

Sleep comes easily.

At some point in the middle of the night, Kurt does wake. He is shocked to discover that sleeping with Blaine isn't as terrible as he once thought. He's warm and snug and feels utterly and completely safe with both of Blaine's arms wrapped around him. The little hairs that brush against Kurt's chest from Blaine's chest don't irritate him at all anymore and the little snores that Blaine makes are rhythmic and soothing.

Kurt takes some time in the light of the moon to look over Blaine's face as he sleeps. So peaceful with lashes that fanned out over his cheeks. Every now and then his lips would quiver and he'd murmur something incomprehensible from his dreams. At one point Kurt couldn't help but smile as something in Blaine's dreams made his nose wrinkle up and he murmured, "... boots…" with nothing else to suggest what it was that Blaine was seeing in his slumber.

That's when it hit Kurt.

This is exactly where he was supposed to be. He had been putting off spending the night with Blaine because he somehow knew that this would make it real, make him realize just how much he needed this other man. How on earth could he go back to living like he had before now that he had experienced this?

He needed to tell Blaine. To just say one word to him, a question. That one word could mean the change for Kurt that he needed. He didn't want to be alone anymore. He didn't want to hide. He wanted this, everyday, forever.

Resolutely, Kurt laid back down, winding his arms around Blaine just as Blaine had down in his sleep with him. In the morning, Kurt told himself, in the morning I'll ask. In the morning I'll know.

He's nervous about sleeping then, worried that he'll forget his middle-of-the-night plans or that Blaine will say no, but eventually he does drift off, his face buried in Blaine's chest as he breathes in the other man's soothing musk. Calmed into a world with no nightmares of Other's ripping him apart and telling him he's nothing. Instead, there's just peace.

He is vaguely aware of a kiss being pressed to his cheek after that, but is still so tired that nothing else registers, until, that is, he stretches a hand out across the bed and a flashing alarm in his head goes off that tells him he's stretching it out over JUST bed and not Blaine.

That's when Kurt bolts up and looks around, hoping that Blaine was just up to piss or start packing up. But no, everything is gone. All his bags and bins are gone. There's nothing. He's alone and Kurt slept through the whole process like a fool.

The towel is still there though, and Kurt wraps it up around himself as he pushes through the doorway, wincing only for a moment as the glare from the sun overhead hits him in his eyes. There's no sign of Blaine out there either, and it's mid-morning.

Kurt slept through him leaving.

He collapsed to his knees right there, gasping for air he didn't know he was short on and holding the towel tightly. Pudding, making her morning appearance, comes over and sits by Kurt, cocking her head to the side as she regards this silly human just sitting on the ground for no apparent reason.

"I wanted to ask him…" Kurt sputters, talking to the dog as he remembers his choice from last night.

"I wanted to tell him…."

"Stay."


	16. Chapter 15: The Idiots

"_**We cannot see our reflection in running water. It is **__**only**__** in still water that we can see." -Taoist Proverb**_

Kurt didn't go to town to get breakfast, nor did he go to his own cabin to eat from the rations he kept in there. Once he managed to pick himself off and out of the dirt, he returned to Blaine's cabin and curled up on the bed there, Pudding following him and covering his feet with her warm, soft belly. He didn't worry about hunting, or that he was supposed to be on patrol in the afternoon. He could try to distract himself with all those petty activities, but he knew it would be futile. He had let Blaine leave. Blind to his own idiocy, there had been so many times he could have told Blaine to stay. He could have even woken him up during the night once he realized it was what he wanted, but instead he had stayed quiet and now Blaine was gone and he was left behind with a dog and memories that he knew weren't going to be enough to suffice.

Growling stomach ignored, he laid there, watching the shadows grow and then shrink on the floor as the sun shot through the cracks in the wall until he couldn't hold his bladder any longer and forced himself up and out, retreating into the forest behind his own cabin where he had a hole dug to relieve himself into. Once that was over with, he opted to crawl into his own bed since it was so much closer and didn't smell so much of Blaine. That smell made it hard to fight off the tears forming in his eyes.

But his bed wasn't free for him to just fall into. On it was a pile of phones and music players, along with a charger and an envelope. Blaine had left them for Kurt. All but one.

He sat on the edge of the bed and let his fingers slide over the screens one by one, avoiding the envelope for the moment. There was one phone that he didn't recognize and that was the one he took in his hand and pressed the buttons on. It had one file on it, titled 'For Kurt'.

He pressed play, sucking in a sharp breath as he immediately recognized that sweet, soothing voice.

"_Well… this is more awkward than I __thought__ it __was__ going to be and I'm just going to record this and not play it back because that's what I've done with the last few and I ended up deleting them because I just ended up sounding like a total dork… so here goes… _

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_

_Take these broken wings and learn to fly_

_All your life_

_You __were__only__ waiting for this moment to arise_

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_

_Take these sunken eyes and learn to see_

_All your life_

_You __were__only__ waiting for this moment to be free_

_Blackbird fly, blackbird fly_

_Into the light of the dark black night_

_Blackbird fly, blackbird fly_

_Into the light of the dark black night_

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_

_Take these broken wings and learn to fly_

_All your life_

_You__were__only__ waiting for this moment to arise_

_You__were__only__ waiting for this moment to arise_

_You__were__only__ waiting for this moment to arise._

_Oh god… I got it all right on the first go around… I hoped you liked it. I __was__thinking__… well… __actually__… this is going to sound so stupid… but I __was__ dreaming and you __were__in my dreams__ and a blackbird flew up behind you and landed on your shoulder and I __was__thinking__ that if you __were__ a part of the Warblers that a blackbird would be __totally__ fitting for your alias… I'm not talking about the giant fat garbage birds that happen to be black… Not sure if they're crows or ravens… anyhow… I'm talking about the blackbirds that are more native to Europe and Africa… according to Trent… yes I talked to Trent about it…. weird I __know__… Anyhow, Trent says that Blackbird males sing right in the middle of winter unlike a lot of other songbirds who wait until spring and this whole time.. with you here in the winter… Oh shit… I don't even __know__ what I'm talking about… ignore all that. I'm babbling like an idiot because I don't __know__ what to say. I __thought__maybe__ if I spoke to a phone instead of you __directly__ that I'd be more coherent and I __think__ I'm __actually__ less coherent."_

There was a sigh in the recording, and Kurt forced up a smile. The recording was so absolutely Blaine that it just made his heart break just that much more.

"_I want you to __know__… that I enjoyed our time together… oh hell.. that sounds like one of those crappy cards my mom used to send out to relatives that visited… I mean, I did enjoy it… even when you __were__ hard on me. I'm going to miss you… and… well… I wish winter never __had__ to end."_

Kurt winced. The recording stopped there but he started it over, and then played it again and again until he had all of Blaine's words, pauses, and breathes committed to memory - and even after that he played it if only to listen to Blaine's song to him. Why hadn't Blaine sung when he had been there? Why was Kurt only hearing his voice now?

He set up the charger so it sat outside with the cord running under Kurt's door with the phone plugged in inside. That way it got the solar power it needed readily and the phone was protected from the elements. He just needed to ensure he put it away when he wasn't around.

By the time night came, the phone had died out completely and he forced himself to look at the envelope. On the outside it was plain, a white envelope tinged with yellow from age with his name scrawled across the front. He let himself focus on how Blaine added curls to the ends of all the letters he wrote and looped the crosses of the K and the T. Why hadn't Kurt noticed how beautiful Blaine's writing was before?

Oh right. Because he was an idiot that didn't notice anything good until it was gone.

Kurt delayed the process further by sliding the folded piece of paper out centimeter by centimeter until the envelope fell away. It was just one piece of paper, similarly yellowed from age with the same distinctive writing that the envelope had. He took in a breath, and read:

_Dear Kurt,_

_ This is the fourteenth letter to you I've started. Don't bother looking for the others as I've thrown them to the fire. Like the phone I left you with my message on it, it seems I'm no better at expressing myself on paper than I am in person. Please don't hold it against me if I end up being a rambling idiot in here as well as this is my last piece of paper and my last chance to write something for you._

_ When I came here, I didn't __know__ what to expect. I __was scared__ and fearful for myself and Trent. But I came because it __was__ your voice that gave me hope over that transmission back in the autumn, and that continued to fill me with hope as Trent healed - even though you tried to push me away like you do with everyone else around you. _

_ For a long time now I've followed. __I__'ve followed orders, I've followed trails and roads, I've followed the sun as it sets. __I__ didn't question any of it because I __thought__ I __was__ living. __I__was__ wrong though. You woke something up in me, as __awfully__ cheesy as that may sound. I've never been more alive, more at peace, and more at home than I have been these past months with you._

_ You're nothing like the kind of man I __thought__ I would fall so hard for. You're tough and straightforward and __definitely__ not the romantic man I dreamed about when I __was__ younger - but don't __think__ that's a bad thing. Your strength makes me want to be stronger, your honesty is rare, and while you may not be romantic, you __clearly__ care about the people around you and don't __look__ for any recognition for all the things you do. __You__ just… do what needs to be done. __You__'re an amazing man and to top it all off, you're gorgeous. __You take my breath away__ every time I see you._

_I__ wish I __knew__ if you __felt__ the same, but I've always been afraid of asking because I __know__ how __strongly__ you __feel__ about appearing independant. __I__ didn't want to push you away so I'm doing the coward's thing and writing you as I leave you to let you __know__ that if there __were__ such a thing as a soulmate, that I __believe__ you would have been mine. __I__ have never been so happy as I have been in these past few months, and I want you to __know__, that's because of you. _

_I__ wish you all the best and hope you find whatever it is you need to __feel__ complete and happy, and I'm sorry that it __was__n't me._

_I__ will love you forever,_

_ Blaine_

Kurt stared at it until the words blurred before him and seemed to merge and stretch into fuzzy black lines. That asshole. It was the coward's way out. He should have told Kurt! He should have….

Not that Kurt was one to talk.

Both of them were idiots. Both of them would have to live with it now. It wasn't like he could pick up a phone and call Blaine to tell him to come back. He didn't have an address he could send a letter to, and he didn't even ask where Blaine was going to now - not that Blaine necessarily knew that himself.

He had let Blaine go like a fool, and only chance would let them see one another again - and then who knew how long that would take? Months? Years? Decades? Everything could change in any one of those time periods.

Kurt read the letter once more and then knelt beside his bed, counting the pelts up from the bottom. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. At ten he slipped his hand between the hides and felt around for a moment before pulling out a dull, once blue, folder.

He didn't look at it often. In fact, he couldn't recall the last time he had. As he flipped the folder open he caught his breath. It was only a couple of pictures. One of his mom and dad, so young in their wedding attire, smiling at the camera in unison. They had been so happy, so full of hope. His dad wore a black tux with a little red flower pinned on his breast to match the red vest and tie he wore under his jacket and his mother had a gorgeous white gown with red embroidery woven throughout. Her hair delicately piled atop her head and fastened down with a tiara that reflected the light of the camera flash.

The second photo was the three of them, right before his mother had so suddenly succumbed. It was out in the yard of their old house. Kurt has set up a lemonade and virgin pina colada stand in the front yard and the three of them were posing with it. He didn't know who had taken the picture, and again, all faces were happy.

They were the only two photos he had on him when they made their run up north, the family picture had been in his wallet and the wedding picture had been in his dad's wallet. Now he kept them both, as safe as he could. He didn't know why. Neither picture brought him any consolation and it wasn't like he'd ever have anyone to pass them down to. Once he has finished looking over them, the letter from Blaine was slipped into the folder as well and all of it was slipped back between the tenth and eleventh pelts in the pile.

He knew it would be awhile before he could bring himself to look at them again after this.

No one came to check on him throughout that day. No one cared. He could have been dead and the only person who would have been concerned had left him.

He needed to take care of himself.

So, when the sun rose the next day, Kurt forced himself to get up, wash himself, get dressed, and go out into the woods to hunt. He was sluggish, his reaction time slow, and the only reason he had anything to bring into the town at all when he was done was because he had caught several rabbits in his traps.

No one spoke to him when he dropped the rabbits off at the kitchen. No one even looked his way.

He was alone again.

Kurt had forgotten how empty it felt to not be noticed. He wasn't living with all these other people, he was just… mutually existing. They did their thing and he did his. How long would it take to get used to that feeling again? Could he?

"Hey Kurt."

His head snapped to the side as he walked down the street and saw Trent there, leaning on his cane on the side of the road by the library. Someone noticed him…

"Hey Trent."

"Got a moment?"

Kurt nodded and followed after Trent who stepped with his limp inside. The library had definitely transformed from the bleak, dark, and dusty room with piles of unsorted books it had been months ago. Now it was well shelved and signs had been put up to help patrons find and sort the books. Kitty had potted some plants in the windows and entrance to brighten things up, and there was even a kids reading area with smaller chairs and tables. Trent had done a remarkable job.

"Blaine left yesterday…"

"Yes." Kurt said, trying to hold back any evidence of emotion.

"How are you doing?"

Kurt looked away and down to the floor, "I'm fine."

"Liar."

Kurt couldn't possibly respond to that. It was true, but acknowledging it meant acknowledging so much else he was trying to keep buried inside him at the moment and he didn't want it to come up. Not in front of Trent. Not in town.

Trent didn't wait for a response though. He just kept talking.

"Look. I don't know you well enough really to know how much you cared about Blaine, but any idiot could see that you did care to some extent. You would peek through books under the pretense of making shelves while he was reading stories to the kids, when you'd walk through town your eyes were always searching for him - and I know that because they'd stop searching when they landed on him. I'd even see the occasional smile on your face when you thought no one was looking and you were listening to him talk."

"So what?" Kurt huffed, sitting himself down on an overturned crate that was being used as a seat in the library. "You're going to tell me to chase him down, tell him my feelings, and hope he reciprocates them? Kind of pointless now."

"You're right." Trent replied, looking back to Kurt with what could only be pity on his face, "You two idiots should have said more to each other awhile ago but you're too uptight and he's too cowardly and now you're both alone."

"Why're you telling me this Trent?"

"Because he told me to look out after you, even though you've been doing it on your own well before we came to town. More than that though… Kitty is pregnant."

Kurt rolled his eyes. Every woman was pregnant right around now - the Valentine's dance had only been weeks ago after all. All that fornicating had to lead to something. "And?"

"And I convinced Kitty that you should be the baby's godfather."

Kurt snickered a little, "I hate to break it to you Trent, as honoured as I am that you came to me, delivered this wonderful little lecture about how Blaine and I are fools, and then told me you want me to take care of your kid in case something happens to the both of you - this isn't exactly a Catholic settlement."

"Doesn't matter… I grew up Catholic and I want there to be someone willing and ready in case something happens to the both of us, someone we've acknowledged as being the back-up caretaker of the baby to the whole town."

Kurt, despite his better judgement, nodded once, "Fine. You're not just asking me though because you've heard I've got a magic touch with babies though right?"

Trent laughed softly, "No… that's just an added bonus."

"You must have missed this part… but why me then?"

Trent leaned back against the wall, his leg could only take standing for so long even now, "Well… if Blaine had stayed, it would have easily been him… but I've seen you with Beth…. what you lack in interacting with adults, you make up for interacting with kids. You're good with them… and you care, just like you cared for Blaine. Even if you're trying to hide it, it's always there. You make sure the people around here are fed and protected, even when they don't seem to care that you do it… and you get up even when the days seem pointless…. Like today."

Kurt nodded, "Like today."

"You're welcome over at our home anytime you like by the way Kurt… I owe you a lot and it appears I'm short a good friend now."

Kurt chuckled, "I'm sure Kitty would just love that."

"Kitty actually likes you. Says you're one of the few people that can meet her level of sass and she has to respect that."

"Really hey?"

"Wouldn't lie when it comes to my Kitty."

"Well I guess I could do that now and then… especially when baby is born. Thought of any names yet?"

Trent let out a small chuckle that told Kurt that yes, they had spoken and they probably weren't on the same page when it came to names.

"I'm old school Kurt. I like plain, strong names. James and Sarah and Marcus and Mary…."

"And she likes?"

"Weird names!" Trent's free hand suddenly became animated as he expounded, gesturing all over, "Frances, Stella, Maddox, and Lucille…."

Kurt couldn't hold back the laugh that erupted, though he tried with one hand to cover his mouth to hold it back until he could speak again. "Those are perfectly legitimate names Trent… they're not weird."

"But they're not traditional!"

"To whom Trent?" Kurt looked up to meet Trent's gaze, "We're making new traditions these days. Last year the names of the babies born ranged from John to Jijuglo and no one batted an eye."

Trent grimaced at the second name Kurt said, and inwardly Kurt couldn't blame him. Everyone but the parents of that poor child just called her Ji-ji.

"What would you suggest then?"

Kurt furrowed his brow. He'd never been asked for advice on names, let alone a baby's name. "I don't know… I guess I'd probably name a kid after either one of my parents… Burt and Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth is nice… but Burt… eh…."

Kurt snickered, "Yeah."

"And they named you Kurt? Honestly? Burt and Kurt?"

"Terrible right? Anyhow… yeah…. I would pick a name that has personal meaning to me I guess…"

"Good advice… think she'll take it?"

"Not if she has her heart set on Stella."

"Ugh."

Kurt and Trent talked for awhile longer, about the weather, the library, about the baby, and everything except Blaine. They had already spoken too much about Blaine for Kurt's heart to take. Little by little he'd have to deal with Blaine's departure until he could handle thinking about him more than a few moments at a time. Eventually they went their separate ways and Kurt went to collect his dinner, ignoring when Sam tried to wave him over to the table he was at in favour of taking his meal home where Pudding was waiting with a wag of her tail.

"Hey girl." He said softly, tossing her a piece of stew soaked bread which she rapidly snapped up without chewing. At least he had someone to come home to at least - though Kurt figured that Pudding's loyalty was more dependant on his willingness to share his his food rather than true love.

The phone had charged throughout the day and once Kurt had finished eating his meal, he laid back in bed with the phone sitting on his chest, looping Blaine's song and message over and over again. Kurt wanted to go to sleep listening to that silken voice, even if it meant he would fall asleep with a heavy heart.

But he didn't fall asleep because after the fifth repeat of Blaine's message, Pudding lifted her head up and looked at the door with perked ears. Kurt's eyes flitted over to her, to see if she had caught scent of something or someone, but what Pudding had picked up became apparent to Kurt quickly.

Yelling. Screaming. Something that sounded like the sky was being torn apart. Quads… lots of quads.

Kurt bolted out of his bed and jumped into his boots, grabbing his bow and arrow pack in one fluid motion and running out the door with Pudding on his heels. The screaming and the motors of the ATV engines got louder as he ran towards the town… which was lit up in flames.

He ran in as children, the old, the sick all ran out, around him. Some were crying, some where trying to calm those with them, while others looked back in shock as they ran, eyes all wide and distressed. Pudding ran away from Kurt there, helping to herd the humans to safety.

Kurt didn't stop to ask anyone what was wrong. They were afraid - that much was clear. He'd figure things out once he got to the source of the engine noise.

Though that noise made his heart leap and plummet at the same time. Quads… if it was the Warblers, it meant they had come back, which meant they knew where the town was, which meant…

No. He couldn't let his personal feelings get in the way of what he was running into. He needed to be ready for anything.

The fire was spreading out from the opposite end of town along the edges of the buildings and jumping from rooftop to rooftop. He could see quads racing up and down the main street, kicking up dirt in their paths. Another pair of quads was encircling one part of the road and making a storm of dust between them where Kurt could vaguely see the silhouette of someone trapped inside their paths.

Across the road, Noah was engaged in a fight with one of the Warblers… a member Kurt remembered seeing in the fall but never heard speak during their brief encounter. A quad lay on its side nearby, suggesting that the Warbler had fallen or been pulled off by Noah and now they were throwing punches back and forth, neither one of them seeming to have the upper hand.

Kurt heard the whiz of a arrow fly nearby and looked up to find Quinn, on one of the balconies of the old brothel, trying to hit the tires of the quads in motion. Below where she was, Santana was directing elderly community members out of the building and between the alleyway to escape, Azimio watching her back.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Kurt's head snapped the other way, spotting Trent standing at the edge of the street and yelling at his former comrades.

"Laying a claim!"

One of the quads stopped short in front of Trent, forcing him to take a step back or be hit. Kurt recognized the man on that machine painted with a red cardinal… Sebastian.

"You can't! This is insanity! People and families live here!" Trent spit back, looking at his former friend in shock.

"And now we do. You get the choice though. Are you still a Warbler?" Sebastian said, offering Trent a hand which the other man pulled away from.

"I have a wife now… a baby on the way… and you're threatening the only safe place for our family to be together because you think you deserve it more? Fuck you Sebastian!"

The man on the quad's eyes shrunk from forgiving to vengeful, and he kicked out a leg, hitting Trent's cane out from under him and making him stumble without the support he needed to stay upright. "They you can run or you can die."

"You're mad…"

Kurt had had enough by this point and launched the arrow he had readied. It sailed smoothly into one of the front tires and by the time Sebastian had looked up to realize what had happened, Kurt had sent a second arrow into the other tire on that side.

"Hey Robin Hood. Someone should have told you that it's the 21st century now and we use guns." Sebastian pulled a pistol out of his belt and aimed.

But Kurt wasn't worried, because at that moment Karofsky ran out from the side of the building where Kurt had seen him creeping forward earlier and launched himself at Sebastian, taking him completely by surprise as the much bigger man forced him off the quad under his weight and made him lose hold of the gun which fell to the ground by Trent who hastily reached down to grab it.

With Sebastian down, Kurt turned to help Quinn stop the other troublemakers and between the both of them, they downed the quads one by one while the guards fought them and brought them each down. The Warblers had been prepared to put up a fight, but they obviously hadn't been prepared to deal with a small army that had been vigilant for years, all trained to use different weapons.

And they definitely weren't prepared to meet that army that would go to any lengths to protect what they had put so much time and effort into creating - their community.

By the time the dust had literally settled, the Warblers were all tied up and guarded. There were ten of them, which mean that some were still unaccounted for - including Blaine. Workers were running mad trying to put out the fires with blankets and buckets of whatever water they could find while the core group of guards tried to figure out what to do with their prisoners.

"They need to be locked up."  
"Where? For how long?"  
"We should just kill them."  
"How?"  
"That's not right."  
"They would have killed us!"  
"They may of well have… look at my house! It's gone!"  
"We could punish them…"  
"And then what? We can't keep them locked up forever."  
"That's why we should just kill them."  
"Are you going to be the one to do it because I couldn't bring myself to it."  
"What about making them slave labour and fix up the mess they made?"  
"That might work…"  
"Until they spot a chance to get free and finish what they started…"  
"And how would we even enforce it?"

Kurt only half listened in, his eyes darting around, trying to see if he could see Blaine somewhere…. maybe he was hiding… maybe he was preparing an attack with the rest of the group…

That's when he caught Sebastian staring at him.

"Wondering where our little Canary is?"

Kurt's eyebrows flattened as his eyes narrowed. Before he could even speak though, Trent spoke up from where he had been standing off to the side. "Yeah. Where is Blaine and Nick and Jeff and Wes and -"

"They're a little bit tied up at the moment."

The double entendre was definitely purposeful, making Trent and Kurt look to one another with raised brows before looking back to Sebastian while some of the other guards began listening in, interest peaked.

"Where?" Kurt asked plainly.

"Let me go and I'll show you."

"Not fucking likely." Noah snapped. "You can't just roll in here, start shit, burn down our homes and expect us to comply with your demands in exchange for some of your accomplises."

"Oh no." Sebastian looked to Noah. "You won't. They..." He looked back to Trent and Kurt, ".. However...will."

The guy thought he knew him, Kurt thought to himself. Yes, he'd do most anything to ensure Blaine was safe, but he wouldn't do anything that put everyone else at risk, even if it meant he has to scour the countryside for weeks to find out where Sebastian had Blaine.

Trent hesitated, everyone looking to him, but he was confident too. "No. I love those guys but I have a family I need to look out for now and if there's anything I've learned about you over the years Sebastian, it's that I can't trust you."

Sebastian's lips curled up at that, clearly not expecting be rejected so quickly and overestimating the collateral he had invested in the missing Warblers.

"Put them in the old sheriffs office until we figure out what to do with them." Kurt ordered, and several of the guards complied, pushing and prodding the bound Warblers to where they at least had a couple jail cells which, up until that point, had only ever been used for storage. They'd have to figure out how to lock them up without a key, but at least they could be more easily guarded in a confined space.

Sebastian glared at him when he was pushed past.

Once they were out of sight and earshot, Trent look to Kurt, "I honestly didn't know aching about this I swear!"

The thought hadn't even crossed Kurt's mind but it must have for several others because Santana was up in Trent's face right away, "How the hell can we prove that?!"

"He gave up knowing about the rest of his friends in order to protect Kitty Santana. I think it's pretty clear his loyalty is with us now." Kurt interrupted, shooting a glare at her.

"Oh, and we should trust you on that? It's not like you weren't heavily involved with Blaine while he was here."

Kurt and Santana continued to exchange death stares until Quinn imposed her own opinion.

"Kurt has never done wrong by us Santana. It's been the other way in fact... He wouldn't sell us out to find his boyfriend."

A flush rose in Kurt's cheeks. How did Quinn know? A quick glance around to check for reactions in the small gathering only to find a complete lack of surprise in their faces. They knew he and Blaine had been together even though he had tried to hide it. Was he that transparent? Did someone share their secret?

Or was it really as obvious as Trent had said it was earlier?

"Do you think they're actually bound up somewhere or did that guy say that to throw us off? They could be ready to plan a second attack..." Noah asked, effectively shutting down the topic of Kurt and Trent being traitorous.

Trent shook his head, "There's always been a division in the Warblers... Sebastian... Hunter... All those guys that we caught... They've always thought we should be more aggressive... But the rest of us didn't want to upset anyone else's living situation which is why we never joined any other communities on our travels. Adding two guys to your huge community caused enough of a stir. The smaller communities we've been to would have outright refused twenty guys joining them - except for renegade groups, which most of us have always been against. That's just suicidal."

"Well how did they know our location then?" Santana snapped.

"I think I can answer that." Karofsky's voice interrupted as he walked towards them, returning from the sheriffs office and holding out some kind of device in his hands and then offering it to Kurt.

Everyone watched as Kurt turned it over in his hands and pressed what looked like a button, making the screen light up and a digital map enter his sight. "What the..."

Trent peered over and shook his head, "A renegade group gave that to us about a year ago. Said if we could get it working it would show us current maps because the satellites up there apparently still work and that thing was linked to it somehow."

"We'll it looks like they got it to work..." Kurt mused as he drew a finger over the screen, watching as the map zoomed in and displayed, much too clearly, their town, including a red hue overtop of it which Kurt could only assume indicated activity somehow. He knew how to fix cars, not deal with technology of this level.

"It shows us?!" Noah wakes over and looked. "Damn..."

"They must have used it to find our location once they got close enough..." Trent offered.

"Why would a renegade group gift your something like that?" Quinn asked, also asked as she maneuvered over to take a look as well.

"I don't know. I wasn't in on that discussion." Trent shrugged.

"Maybe we could find Blaine and the others with this..." Kurt said softly, dragging his finger around to see if he could figure out how to use it. God he hoped he could.

"We need to get things in order and calmed down here first." Santana asserted. "Then we'll look for them."

Her statement and eyes were directed to Kurt, who just nodded in compliance. As much as he just wanted to grab a horse and rush out to find Blaine, make sure he was okay, he also needed to make sure things were taken care of in town and needed some time to figure out the device in his hands before he tried to use it to find Blaine.

As if he were reading his mind, Trent hobbled up beside Kurt and held out a hand, "I can work on figuring that out while you help out around here since I'm not as able to move around as fluidly as you…"

Kurt nodded and handed it over, ignoring the questioning look Santana was giving him. Despite what she thought, Kurt did trust Trent. He had to trust someone around here after all. If Trent was going to trust Kurt with his unborn child as a godfather, than Kurt didn't see any reason not to reciprocate that trust.

The next several hours was chaos. The fires were put out and the damage was assessed. People were moved around in the surviving, safe homes. Some apartments had beds lined up in rows because they needed to get as many people in as they could. Mercedes drafted up a new work plan where half the workers would be dedicated to building new homes. It was generally agreed upon that everyone would be putting in a lot more hours and time to make it all work.

Among the guards, a new schedule was also drafted up by Santana where there would be three people on shifts at all times to watch the Warblers, who were also packed into the little cells tight. Guards would have to double shift - one shift for helping the work and one for protecting the town until they knew what was going on with the other Warblers.

Then there was the water issue.

Once the fires were out, it was solemnly announced that most of the water they had stockpiled from the winter snow had been used up. Rations would have to be reduced and there would be an effort to take the big barrels out to old drainage ditches to try and increase their stock.

A lot of crying happened too. To an extent, Kurt got it. People had worked hard to make this new home after losing their last one, and now a new invasion had reduced many of their homes to ash. Children were devastated. This was their first real encounter with another big group and it left them with fear. How could they ever feel safe again?

Kurt spent most of his time running around where people needed support. He helped knock down some burnt pillars, brought the elderly and infirmed their meals, swept dust out of homes that hadn't been on fire but had gotten covered in the ashes of other homes, and made beds for children who needed to sleep but their parents were still busily working. By the time he got back to Trent, it was the middle of the night and he was covered in soot, sweat, and exhausted.

"I think I've got it Kurt…." Trent didn't need to be woken up. He had stayed in the library where several beds had been set up and children were sleeping under his supervision. "... let me show you."

It was relatively easy to use once Trent showed Kurt a few times. The range was limited though so they could only check so far away.

"Best bet is if we go towards the meeting place because I'll wager anything they're somewhere between here and there." Trent noted.

Kurt nodded. It made sense. Admittedly he was worried. He didn't know if they had food or water wherever they were. If they were bound up such that they could be in danger if wild animals passed by, or if Sebastian and his goons had hurt them and they needed medical attention. Mike had been attending to the main transmitter while checking people for smoke inhalation, just in case they were able to send out a message, but so far no luck.

"You should take a nap… get some rest… I don't imagine many other people will join you and I on this quest, and I'm kind of feeble so it would be good if you were at your best." Trent stated after the pair of them decided to go out in the morning light.

Kurt sighed and nodded, "Yeah… just… "

"It'll be hard to sleep when you're worried about him… I get it."

Kurt looked down between his feet. That was exactly it.

"Well.. try… and wash up. You shouldn't go to him looking like hell."

Kurt chuckled and gave Trent a quick nod as he exited, making his way out of town through the throngs of people still busily working and feeling guilty about leaving them behind while he had a nap.

Everyone else had cleanup well underway though, and he needed to find Blaine. He had gotten his second chance and he wasn't going to screw it up, even though it had come at a high price.


	17. Chapter 16: The Sacrifice

_**"Without water, a man dies. A man's body makes water. His blood is water. A child is born in a rush of water. Water keeps us clean. It keeps us healthy. It keeps us alive. It is when we are in water that we are closest to God. But… when a man stays took long in water, he dies.. When you touch water, you touch the Essence of God." - Kristine Kathryn Rusch, The Fey: The Sacrifice**_

No amount of scrubbing seemed to get the dark soot completely out of Kurt's skin, much less his clothing which would have to be identified as black henceforth. He did try using up the last of the shampoo that Blaine had gotten for him and that had helped his hair, but the rest of him was a write off.

And he didn't have time to make himself pretty.

After napping for three hours and washing himself down, Kurt returned to down, thinking he'd be able to get a couple horses for himself and Trent and begin their mission to find Blaine and the other Warblers. Kurt wasn't expecting a full brigade though.

Gathered in front of the library, with Trent, was Sam and Mike, along with a wagon that had already been hitched up to some horses. The wagon had a couple water barrels sitting in the back and Mercedes was giving orders to a couple workers who stood nearby while Sam watched her lovingly.

"What's all this?" Kurt asked of Trent when he reached them.

"If some of them are hurt you'll need me…" Mike said, and Kurt saw then that his medical bag was also sitting in the back of the wagon.

"And Blaine is my buddy too man. You're not going to do this alone." Sam added. "Mercedes just said we need to collect any water if we pass by any drainage ditches or ponds. Kill two birds with one stone."

Kurt smiled and nodded. It would be better to have them. If any of the Warblers were hurt, then they'd have the wagon to transport them easier… and Trent would do better riding in the wagon than on a horse anyhow.

"I've got the positioning device ready to go Kurt. It doesn't have a lot of power left so I suggest we only turn it on every hour or so." Trent noted as he climbed up the wagon with Sam's help.

"Sounds like a plan." Kurt agreed and thanked Mercedes as she brought him a saddled horse, noting it was the "fastest one they had" in the process. The two workers also climbed up into the wagon, probably to help with any water collection they might have to do. Goodbye's were said and then the pack of them were off, Kurt well in the lead as he mapped out the path to the place he had met Blaine in the fall. He needed to get to him, and every minute that passed by made that need stronger.

For the first six hours though, there was nothing. No water to collect, no Warblers to be found, and no calm in Kurt's chest. He was about to ask Mike for something to calm his anxiety when they turned on the device in the seventh hour and picked up a red halo of activity ahead of them. It wasn't close yet, but it was more than they had up until that point.

"If my scale calculations are right.. that's about another couple hours out… close to where you guys found us last year…" Trent noted to Kurt who was already grabbing some coffee beans out of a bag in the back of the wagon and racing to get back to his horse and ride out. That had to be them.

As fast as the horse was, it wasn't fast enough for Kurt. He needed to turn those hours into seconds, but it wasn't happening and it wasn't until Trent's predicted two hours that Kurt and Sam, racing their stallions ahead of the group, reached an old farm where the red blur on the device indicated the activity was coming from.

"The silo. There!" Sam pointed out to Kurt ahead of them. Beside the tall, cylindrical metal structure was parked a few quads. Kurt turned his horse and had it run to the structure, nearly jumping off as he reached it.

"Hello?!"

Banging. Banging and yelling from inside the silo started as soon as he reached it. He ran around the base of it, looking for an access point. There was one, but it had been bolted shut. Shit.

"It's Kurt! From the community! Is Blaine in there?!"

He heard some noises from within, a barrage of voices, several of which said "Yes" - though it was muffled.

"I'm going to figure out how to get you guys out. It's bolted so give me a few minutes to figure it out." Kurt yelled towards the structure.

There was more muted conversation and movement from inside while Sam, Kurt, and the others tried to figure out how to deal with the locked entryway. It was Kurt, in his haste, that came up with the only thing they could do without bolt cutters or some kind of welding torch.

He grabbed an oversized, rusty metal shovel that was leaning against the silo, pulling it away from the growth that had been building up around it for years, and wedged it between the silo and the little access door, pushing with all his might in an effort to break apart the chains, even though they were in much better shape than any of the other metal around.

It wasn't the chains that broke though. It was the access door. The rust and age had caught up with the hinges on it and they broke apart, making the door snap back towards Kurt and then dangle from the chains still holding it onto the silo as a cheer went up from both outside and inside the silo.

Kurt didn't have time to celebrate.

He stuck his head into the dark, damp, and urine scented structure. "Blaine?"

"He's here!" A voice rang out and as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he saw a pair of faces, which he recognized from the autumn as those that initially greeted him, pulling up a limp and unconscious Blaine from the ground and carrying him towards the exit Kurt had made.

"Oh…. Mike!" Kurt snapped his head back to yell for the medic who was already coming up with his medical bag.

Sam and Kurt took over carrying Blaine as he was lifted through the entrance and then brought to Mike. Kurt watched with trepidation as Mike checked him over and found the source of the problem - a large bump on his head.

"He fought with Sebastian and Sebastian hit him across the back of the head when Blaine thought he had backed down… we think he has a concussion or something." One of the Warblers said as they started flooding out of the silo, stinking of dirt and piss.

Kurt knelt on the side of Blaine opposite to where Mike was checking him over. "What can I do Mike?"

Mike didn't respond to him though, instead looking up at the nearby Warbler who had given him the other information, "Has he been awake at all?"

The man nodded. "In and out. Complaining of a massive headache whenever he has been awake and just making things worse by attacking the silo from the inside to try and get out and get to …." he looked at Kurt "... you I guess. Wears himself out and collapses again."

Kurt took a small, shuddering breath and reached for Blaine's hand while Mike mumbled to himself. "Good.. that's good… probably no brain damage then. Any other injuries?"

The man shook his head, "No. Sebastian had guns… they made us go into their when we wouldn't go along with their plan to take over your village… did they?"

Mike shook his head, "No. We have them all locked up."

The man breathed out a sigh of relief, "I'm sorry… we… we tried to talk them down from it…. and Blaine… he didn't even care about the guns…. He was so worked up about it that he ran right into them all. Took them by surprise and then Sebastian got him and… well…"

Mike shook his head, "The Tides didn't get rid of the morons unfortunately…" He tipped Blaine's head to the side and pulled a needle out of his bag, injecting it into the swollen spot. "I'm just reducing the pressure on his skull Kurt… He should be fine."

Kurt nodded, squeezing Blaine's hand in his own. God. If Blaine didn't make it now, after all that….

But Blaine groaned then and his eyes fluttered open, "What…?"

"Hold his head still while I finish up Kurt." Mike directed, Kurt's hands flying up to hold Blaine's head in place while Mike finished up.

"Why does it feel like there's a needle in my head?" Blaine murmured, eyes jumping around until they landed on Kurt, "Kurt?"

Kurt offered a smile, his heart trying to smash through his chest as it grew exponentially within his chest, "Yeah… and it's because there is a needle in your head. Mike is trying to help you out."

"Oh."

Blaine just kept looking up at Kurt, apparently unphased by the fact he was being worked on by Mike. A smile flourished over his face and those honey eyes twinkled as they scanned over Kurt's face. "You found me again."

Kurt chuckled, "Yeah. Seems like it."

"There." Mike announced, pulling the needle away and quickly applying a gauze pad soaked in something that made Blaine wince and flinch. "It's disinfectant. You definitely don't want to get an infection that close to your brain."

"I'll hold it…" Kurt offered and his fingers replaced Mike's while Mike rifled through the medical bag until he came up with some wrap bandaging he started winding around Blaine's head.

"Sebastian?" Blaine asked then.

Kurt shook his head, "We lost a few buildings to the fires he set…. but we caught them all. They're under guard at the community."

Like his friend, Blaine breathed a sigh of relief and reached up to grasp Kurt's hands in his own, "My messages?"

Kurt smiled and squeezed back Blaine's hands, "I got them."

"Okay Kurt, you can help him up and we'll give him some anti-inflammatories." Mike interrupted.

Kurt pulled Blaine by his hands up to standing, moving in quickly when it looked like the motion was going to make the curly haired man collapse again and tucking himself under one of Blaine's arms to support him. "Come on. You can sit in the wagon."

"With you?"

"Sure."

Kurt climbed aboard once he had Blaine safely loaded. The other Warblers lingered around, looking lost and unsure of what to do until Sam spoke.

"You can come with us. Decide what to do about the other birds."

That seemed to work for them, and they too climbed aboard the wagon, stopping only to grab things they might need from the cargo bins of the ATV's.

"Mercedes isn't going to be happy about me bringing back more people and no water." Sam grunted towards Kurt.

"Mercedes will understand." Kurt responded.

They set back off then, Mike now riding Kurt's horse while Trent took over leading the wagon and speaking to his friends.

Kurt just reveled in his second chance.

"Are you alright?" Blaine asked of him after they had been back on the trail for a few minutes and Kurt had to stop himself from arching up an eyebrow.

"You're the one that was hurt."

"But.. you said there were fires… and then you came out here…"

"Blaine. I'm fine."

"You always say that."

"And this time, I'm being honest." Kurt said stiffly, reaching over to tuck a curl behind Blaine's ear. The bandaging covered way too much of Blaine's head and his curls for Kurt's liking, but to have him again, living and breathing and right in front of him, was worth not being able to just comb his fingers through that hair like he wanted to.

"I tried to stop Sebastian."

"I heard." Kurt said quietly, pulling Blaine to rest against him. It would be a bumpy ride and the least he could go was let Blaine have his soft body to help absorb the shocks.

"I should have stayed." Blaine said then, letting himself rest against Kurt and closing his eyes which allowed Kurt to mentally map out his face once more, ensuring everything was still there from the last night they had spent together.

"Yeah. You should have."

"Would you have been okay with that?"

"I was going to ask you to." Kurt admitted, looking up at the sky above them then as a crow flew overhead, "But you left before I woke up…"

"Nothing like the last minute huh?" Blaine murmured with a yawn following it.

"Mmmhmm… You can sleep. I'll keep you safe." Kurt said, winding his arms around Blaine then. He didn't care about the other people in the wagon or what anyone else thought. He had his second chance. He wasn't going to blow it.

"Mmrrmm… okay…"

Blaine was out not second after saying it and Kurt spent the better part of the ride home rubbing his hand up and down Blaine's back, humming soft lullabies to him and ignoring the friendly questions from the other Warblers. He only had interest in one person, and that person was in his arms.

When they got back into town it was the middle of the night but thanks to their radio transmissions, their friends and families were all waiting for them. As expected, Mercedes playfully scolded Sam about the water before giving him a kiss, and Trent swept Kitty into his arms for a kiss as well before introducing her to all the Warblers who looked completely overwhelmed by the community they had found themselves in.

While they had been gone, it looked like there had been progress on the reconstruction. A giant stack of lumber had been piled in the center of the street and a couple basic frames had been put up where the new homes were to be created. The town looked a lot less black from the ashes, even though the ground was still dark.

Mike directed Kurt to have Blaine check in the next day with him before leaving for the clinic. While Mercedes directed her workers to show the Warblers where they would be staying and had other workers collect the horses and wagon, Kurt helped Blaine walk down the path to their homes, passing by Blaine's cabin in favour of his own, which he knew would have blankets ready at least.

"Pudding!" Blaine cooed as the dog ran up and tried to jump on them both before Kurt held a protective arm out.

"Down!"

She complied, but follow the men in, tail wagging loudly as Kurt helped Blaine lie back in the bed and then set about not only changing his own clothes, but Blaine's as well. That silo clearly offered limited space for bladder relief given how strongly all the Warbler's stunk and Kurt was sure the scent was locked into their clothing. Blaine's clothing was tossed outside where it couldn't offend Kurt's nostrils any longer and he heated some water to wash over Blaine's body while the man just watched him from where he laid.

"I didn't think I'd see you again."

Kurt huffed as he ran a rag soaked with warmed water over Blaine's chest and stomach. "Neither did I… but here we are again."

"I'm sorry it had to be like this."

Kurt wrung out the rag and resoaked it before taking it to Blaine's legs, "I'm not. Those homes were old and dilapidated anyhow. No one was hurt and because of it all I have you back here."

"So you want me to stay?"

"Of course I do you moron." Kurt sat forwards to run the rag under Blaine's neck. "You're the only one I seem to be able to tolerate for any length of time."

Blaine laughed at that and then winced, probably having shaken his head too much.

"Just rest." Kurt coaxed.

"Yes Kurt."

They snuggled up against one another that night, Kurt spending half the time in bed just looking at the man beside him in amazement and keeping his arms wrapped securely around his waist to ensure he didn't sneak away in the night again. This time Kurt wouldn't let him get away.

In the morning, they headed back to town, hand in hand - Blaine dressed in some of Kurt's clothing since his own were somewhere back near that farm. Kurt had to admit that flannel suited Blaine.

"Kurt! Kurt!" Quinn cried as she saw them approaching. The woman ran up to them, hair wild and eyes distraught, "Beth!"

"Huh?" Kurt looked at her intently, "What? What happened?"

"They took her! They…" She turned to look at Blaine, her eyes going from sorrowful to enraged, "THEY took her!"

"Who Quinn?!"

"The guards were beaten… they escaped… those assholes escaped. We should have killed them!" Quinn snapped, looking back to Kurt.

"And they took Beth?"

Quinn nodded frantically. "Noah was watching them and Beth came to bring him breakfast… Noah said something happened then, faster than he could account for it and they overtook them before they could react. One of them grabbed Beth and left a note."

Kurt had gone from sedate to agitated within seconds and he followed Quinn to the sheriff's office, which did look like a small army had gone through it. Kitty was checking over Noah and Azimio while Santana read over a piece of paper.

"They want us to bring them a full wagon's worth of food and water to a location… and Trent too.."

"No!" Kitty snapped, turning away from Azimio, "That's not happening!"

"My daughter is more important than your man Kitty!" Quinn snarled.

"Not to me!" Kitty yelled back, eyes narrowed and focused on Quinn.

"Why do they want Trent…?" Blaine asked quietly, looking between the two women that Santana was now trying to get between.

"Probably because he effectively told them to go to hell the night they invaded the town." Kurt offered, reflecting back on how angry Sebastian had been when Trent had rejected him.

"There's no winning in that deal…" Blaine mumbled.

"Not if we play out to their demands or ignore them…" Kurt mused, glancing over at Santana who nodded in understanding.

"We set them up."

"Precisely."

Plans were outlined, roles given. Blaine hovered nearby the whole time, but as much as Kurt wanted to just begin his life with the other man, he was needed. Beth needed him. Despite Kitty's protests, Trent agreed to be part of the plan as the necessary bait. Weapons were sharpened and loved ones told not to worry as, once again, a group of them set off with the wagon.

Much as he tried, Kurt couldn't convince Blaine to stay back, and Blaine even managed to convince the rest of the group that him coming would be to their advantage, since he knew the other guys best and could try and reason with them. Show them their attempt to lock away the dissenting Warbler's was as much a failure as their attempt to take over the village. Show them that Sebastian wasn't fit to lead them, that his ideas were stupid.

And so they set off.

Kurt, Santana, Noah, and Karofsky were hidden under a cloth that in turn was covered with what might have looked like foodstuffs, making the cart look full when it wasn't. Blaine, Trent, and Quinn rode up on the front of the wagon while Sam and a small crew of other guards followed behind. They would flank Sebastian and his crew when they got closer to the meeting point.

They only had to ride for an hour before they slowed, coming up to the point on the map that Sebastian had marked for them.

"Two of them are ahead of us…" Quinn said quietly, so that Kurt and the group under the sheet could hear them and be ready for action.

"It's John and Flint." Trent added, as if that made any lick of difference.

Beside him, Karofsky had a ready hand on his axe, while Santana had her short sword at the ready. The group flanking had all the guns the community had saved up, leaving Kurt and his small contingent to rely on the element of surprise and their own skill.

"Hold!" An unfamiliar voice called out and the cart lurched to a halt.

"You're alive Canary…" Another voice said, half surprised by the tone.

"Yeah. Those people you tried to burn out - they saved me. You guys on on the wrong side here." Blaine snapped back.

"Where's Sebastian? Where's Beth?" Quinn interrupted.

"Oh… they'll be here… they're just taking care of your silly old time horse troops." The first voice noted.

Kurt and Santana looked at each other wide eyed and then, as if on cue, shots were heard in the distance, along with the whiney of horses. There was a cry of "No!" from Blaine and then the wagon shook and Kurt heard one of the men cry out with a thud.

They couldn't wait for back-up now.

He threw back the sheet and while Santana, Noah, and Karofsky jumped off and ran around to the front of the cart to aid Blaine who was laying punch after punch into a darker skinned man, Kurt aimed his arrow at the other man who looked like he was about to pull a gun out of his belt to help his friend.

Though as soon as he saw Kurt, he froze and held his hands up.

For the moment they had the upper hand, but there was only two of Sebastian's goons here, and that left eight more to deal with.

"Where the hell is my daughter?!" Quinn snapped, getting right up into the face of the man that Blaine hadn't just pummeled into unconsciousness.

"With Sebastian… he'll be here… he said he'd be here soon…." The man stammered, glancing from the crazy woman in front of him and back to Kurt, still with his bow at the ready as he stayed positioned at the top of the cart.

"How the hell did you know about the plan?!" Santana asked then, adding her sword to the mix by prodding the man in the side with it threateningly.

"Ah!" He stumbled in place, "Hunter… Hunter left a walkie on… hidden in the jail. We heard everything…."

"Shit!" Kurt looked out towards the forest. This was bad. Very, very, bad. They were in an open area, right beside an old highway with thick forests blanketing the boundaries. They were at a disadvantage here. Noah, Karofsky, Santana, Blaine, and Trent were all walking targets, Quinn was emotional, and Kurt wouldn't be able to get a clear shot on anything in that forest - even if he could spot something from the distance he was at. Sebastian knew their whole plan, including that they would hide in the wagon, and left two guys, probably expendable in his mind, to meet up with them while the rest took care of the group that was supposed to be their backup.

Shit-storm didn't even begin to explain how bad this situation was.

Santana was panicking. She didn't like it when things didn't go her way, much less when it meant they could all be in imminent danger of dying now. "Shit! We need cover… we need -"

_**Crack! Ptafffff!**_

Kurt blinked. Everything seemed blurry all of a sudden.. and as he glanced towards Blaine and the others from his perch atop the wagon, he felt suddenly overcome with dizziness. He could see Blaine yelling out, Karofsky too… and then they became blurry for a moment before coming clear again.

Something was wrong…

He stumbled back, his bow falling off the side of the wagon as he lost his grip on it. Why couldn't he control his hands? He looked down.

Oh.

A bright red flower was growing on his chest, soaking his clothing with his own blood.

He had been shot.

Another backwards stumble and he was falling off the back of the cart, and even though he knew he should have been shaken up by hitting the ground so hard, he didn't feel a thing. He was numb.

His ears began to work again though. He could hear Blaine crying out, Karofsky too. He could hear more shots, a child crying, then a laugh.

And while Kurt wish he could say the last thing he saw before he died was his lover's face, it wasn't. Above him Sebastian loomed, looking down at what had probably been his own handiwork by the way he happily twirled the pistol in his hand.

"Thanks for the delivery."

Then Kurt felt himself being kicked over, more cries from his friends, and then he was face down in the waters of a drainage ditch, the water replacing the blood he lost, and the air for that matter too. He wouldn't just die of a bullet wound, but he would drown as well.

At least he'd see his parents again Kurt thought to himself as he closed his eyes and allowed the darkness to take him over.

**The reason this chapter is so short is because it was broken into two chapters. Otherwise it seemed too choppy to me.**


	18. Chapter 17: Light and Dark

"_**Water, like religion and ideology, has the power to move millions of people. Since the very birth of human civilization, people have moved to settle close to it. People move when there is too little of it. People move when there is too much of it. People journey down it. People write, sing and dance about it. People fight over it. And all people, everywhere and every day, need it." - Mikhail Gorbachev**_

_Lullaby, and goodnight, with roses bedight..._

Kurt was tumbling, weightless, lost in a warm, familiar darkness. He was safe, he was secure, there was nothing that could hurt him. He didn't have to make choices or suffer the consequences of them, all decisions were made for him. Safe in the womb of his death, there was nothing else that could get him.

_Twinkle, twinkle, little star. How I wonder what you are…._

He began to see light, and yet, he didn't want to go near it. Something was both pushing him and pulling him away from the bliss he had found towards it. It seemed too far away, but it was coming at him so quickly.

_Hush little baby, don't you cry…._

A voice. It was a voice drawing him out into the light. A beautiful, lyrical, familiar voice.

His mother.

_Baby, mine, don't you cry…_

"Mom! Momma! Where are you?!"

Kurt was standing now, free of the darkness and completed covered in light. It was all he could see - endlessly bright. No shadows, nothing else. Just him spinning and looking for his mother in a gauzey haze of transparent gold.

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night…._

Then he spun once more and there she was, just as beautiful and radiant as she had always been to him. She wasn't the image of death he had last seen her as, but the woman who always lulled him to sleep with songs, kissed his roughed up knees when he fell, and baked him cookies whenever he asked. In fact, she looked younger - or maybe it was because Kurt was so much older now - but her chestnut hair fell in waves down around her and her green eyes glistened with so much love. Love for him.

"Mom!"

He ran to her, embracing her and finding her just as real as he was… well, as anything was in this place. He was as tall as she had been now, and he was so much broader. Growing up he had never seen her as slight because she had been so much bigger than him then, but now it was obvious.

And those arms that held him and rocked him as a baby held him back and together mother and son made a muffled cry as they reunited.

"I missed you so much momma…"

"My boy…" She pulled back a little to look over his face, brushing loose hairs away from his forehead and cheeks as she scanned him over, "My beautiful baby boy."

"Is dad here too? Can we be together again? A family again?" Kurt asked, trying to glance into the lit fog around them to see if his dad would show up next.

"No baby boy…" Her voice was sad and Kurt's heart fell. Why wouldn't his father be there? Was this afterlife nothing like what the religious preached? Did his father have to go somewhere else?

"Momma…"

"Shh, shh, shh…." She insisted, voice softening with each subsequent shh. "I wish he were here with us. I miss him too."

"Why? Why can't he be here with us?"

"Because he's gone sweet boy."

Kurt looked at her blankly. He didn't understand. How could he? Was this some afterlife terminology he would have to pick up?

"Come… sit with me."

Kurt allowed himself to be led, through the light to a place somewhat dimmer, but still just as vacant. His mother sat herself down on the floor and he followed, letting her draw him in and hold him against her as she hummed to him one of many songs he remembered as a child.

"I only can have you here for so long baby boy. Let me enjoy it."

His eyes snapped apart and he looked to her with trepidation, "What? Why? Why can't I stay with you?"

"Because I'm not really here baby boy."

"I don't understand…" He sat up and looked at her. She looked real, she felt real, she even smelled real.

"I'm… here." She tapped his head, prompting his eyes to roll upwards to look at where her finger bopped him.

"I've gone crazy?"

She chuckled, "No baby boy. You're fine."

This was so very confusing. He looked around again and then let his eyes settle back on her, "I don't understand what's going on… I'm dead… right?"

The smile fell off her face and she looked over Kurt with the twinkle of tears visible in the corners of her eyes, "No baby boy. Is that what you want?"

"I want to be with you and dad again. I want peace."

"Is that why when you saw that bullethole in you that you just accepted it?"

Is that what had happened? A flash of memory came to him. The wagon, the cries of those around, the blood flowing so freely from him.

"Yes."

She glanced down, "Then I'm sorry baby boy."

"How can I not be dead?"

She looked back up and pressed a hand to his chest. He looked down at it there, his shirt torn and dried with blood, but there was no bullethole in him, no lasting mark, no pain, and no reason for him to be dead - at least not here in this place.

"When you were born I fought bitterly with your dad over your middle name… do you know why?"

Kurt's mouth twitched into a half smile. He had heard the story, moreso after his mother died and his father told it as a way to keep her memory alive. "You wanted me to have your name as my middle name and dad thought I'd be teased horribly for it… but you stuck to your guns… and then when you died, he said he felt like you always knew it would happen and that's why you wanted me to have your name… so I'd never be able to forget you."

She smiled weakly, letting her hand fall back to her lap, "In a way. A name has power Kurt. When you took on my name, you took on a bit of me with it. I didn't know what was coming when you were born, but I knew you were my miracle that wasn't supposed to be and I made sure you had every benefit of protection I could give you."

Kurt tipped his head to the side, watching her for a moment before uttering, "What do you mean?"

His mother looked away, "Do you remember when I was teaching you about the different coins when you were in preschool? How you were always so proud of yourself for knowing them except for one?"

It seemed the confusion wouldn't be alleviated anytime soon, not if anecdotes were part of the explanation. He didn't remember his mother being so cryptic. "It was a long time ago mom…."

"Quarters… You could never remember the word quarter… and I thought that was always so fitting…"

"Mom…"

She looked back up at him, "See me Kurt."

He shook his head, "What? I'm looking at you mom…"

"No. Don't look. See."

Quarters… protection… miracles… power…

He blinked, and before him was his mother still - but taller, more waxen, and ears….

Kurt scuttled back on his hands and legs, "Mom! No!"

"Baby boy…"

"You're one of them! You're the reason dad died!"

Her face fell, and even though some of the features had become more accented, her face still held the same sincerity, and in that moment, the same pain. "I would have died with him if I could."

"They were right… they were always right…." Kurt looked down at his hands, the only part of him he could see clearly as his eyes started to gloss over with tears, "...I'm a freak. What's going on? What's happening?!"

"I only have so much time with you Kurt… please… let me explain…"

"Why? Why… why…." His head snapped up to look at her again, tears bouncing off his cheekbones and to the air. This wasn't right. This couldn't be how things were. It didn't make any sense.

"Please baby boy… calm down… let me tell you…."

"Dad's not here because he was human and we're… we're Others and in some other kind of afterlife… and I can't even be with him here… and to know this… and…" He hiccupped mid sob, head shaking in disbelief.

"Oh Kurt!" Arms were thrown around him, and Kurt let them. Even if she was one of them, she was still his mother, and, apparently all he had here in the fog. She rocked and eased Kurt through his sobs until his face was red and numb and his eyes were dried out, and he was ready to listen.

"What happened… shouldn't have happened… I should have lived and died with your father and you should have outlived us both. You should have gone off to a big city and chased down your dreams and used all those talents of yours that I only got to see in their fledgling years… but it didn't happen… and I can't change that. I was called back… and the call can't be refused."

Kurt shook his head. He still didn't comprehend it, but he was too depleted to question it.

"I made sure you had my name though… just in case… and so here you are. I'm not really me, not as I might be now, but as your mother none the less. A piece of me hidden within you and sealed there by my name. You're going to live Kurt. You'll wake up when your body has healed and you'll live."

"But I'll be one of you…." He snuffled, face buried against his mother's shoulder.

"No. You'll be you. You always have been, you've just never been awakened to who you are."

"You were much better at making me feel better when I was little."

She chuckled, despite his somber tone and brought a hand up to brush over Kurt's hair, "Well, if I'm not up to par it's because your own mind is limited when it comes to comforting techniques. I suppose that's why you need Blaine."

Kurt shook his head. Alive or dead… either way he was gone to Blaine. No one would want him.

"Do you think your dad would reject me, even now if he knew my true self baby boy?"

God no. His dad loved his mother to his dying day. "Probably not."

"Then don't give your lover the same discredit."

A thought seemed to fall upon Kurt and he looked up, "Protection?"

"For you… and those around you."

"Is that why…?"

"The Others have never found you? Yes."

"But I've seen one…."

"They will only find you if you let them Kurt."

"And my dreams…."

"Are actually just what they say… your subconscious trying to piece things together… though in your case your subconscious has been a little more active than most."

He clung back to her then, "And when I wake up?"

"You'll remember… but I'll be gone. The magic we use is only good for so long."

He sighed and shut his eyes, let her hold him and sing to him. He would have this peace. He would hold onto it for as long as he could. Over time her clear voice became gritty and then began to fade, and Kurt thought it was because he was falling asleep in his mother's secure hold.

At least until he felt like he could no longer breath.

That's when he gasped for air, and found himself sputtering up water. His eyes flew open as he struggled backwards in his search for air and he found himself staring back into the plain and highway he was sure he had died at, sitting back in a drainage ditch, submersed to his chest as he leaned back on his knees.

He wasn't dead… he wasn't dead….

His first instinct was to look around, searching for Blaine and anyone else. Maybe it had just been a bad dream. Perhaps he fell off the wagon and knocked his head and had dreamt up the whole death and dreamworld.

But he was alone out here, and it was night. He was positive it had been morning when they had all set up and reached this place. The only indication that anyone else had been out here was the tracks of a wagon and horses, mixed with those of random footprints.

And his bow and pack of arrows were there, discarded on the ground by the wagon tracks like they had been garbage.

The reality settled over Kurt then, especially when he looked down at his chest, seeing the same hole in his shirt with the red bloom sprouting from it. But there was no hole in his body. Nothing to indicate he was wounded.

He had died. He had seen his mother. He was a freak.

Now he was alive, alone, and still a freak.

Quietly he stood, his clothes soaked and dripping immediately as he climbed out of the ditch and went to gather his bow and arrows. His coat was heavy with the water weight and so Kurt shed it, leaving it there as he wrapped the pack over his chest and began following the tracks.

What had taken an hour by horse, took Kurt two on foot. The tracks led him back to the town and even though he had not eaten since the morning, he didn't feel hungry and he wasn't tired. Blindly he kept moving ahead, motivated by his own need to protect and ensure the safety of the people who would probably reject them once they had seen his return from the dead.

Like a memory returned, the town seemed ablaze, though this fire was more contained. A central fire built to be huge was nested in the center of town. Kurt snuck between building and climbed up atop the old brothel to get a better view. He had lost the element of surprise before and he wouldn't now.

From there though, Kurt could see another fire in the distance, where his home was and his heart seemed to be shot through again as he realized he was losing his pictures, the letter, and his music. Those few little things had meant the world to him and he had lost them without even being able to put up a fight.

Around the fire, community members had their hands bound together with rope and chains while Warblers patrolled closely to them, all armed with guns. Some children sobbed quietly against their parents while those parents tried to calm them and tell them everything would be alright despite the fact that things could not look worse for them. Sebastian and a couple of his goons were sitting around a table not far away, all with a pistol in one hand and a drink in the other as they talked.

And Blaine was there too.

Tied up beside Sebastian and kneeling on the ground. He looked like an absolute mess, hair wild and askew, his whole outfit ripped and covered with dirt. He had put up some kind of fight and clearly he had been on the losing end.

"We should just let them go. I don't want to kill anyone."

"There's more of them though then there is of us. Nothing is stopping them from attacking us back once they regroup." Sebastian spat at the man who had spoken.

"I didn't sign on to murder people Cardinal… and there's kids and everything there…"

"There's two sides here - us and them. Which side do you want to still be breathing at the end of this?"

The other man gave his two cents then, "I don't think I can stomach this… it's too much… you already killed that one guy…."

"Kurt." Blaine spoke up then. His voice was gravelly, but defiant, using the name as his only weapon against the men who had bound him there.

"Yes, yes… your pretty little piece of ass." Sebastian cooed at Blaine, who glared at him menacingly, his breaths getting deeper and heavier as he looked at Sebastian spitefully. "I shot him to set an example."

"How many examples do we need though Cardinal?"

"As many as it takes to get the point across that this is our town now."

"But we shouldn't be fighting them… they're humans…"

"It's too late for that. Now enough of your grievances. We've started this, we just can't go back from it now."

"You are all going to pay." Blaine spat out.

Sebastian looked at Blaine, regarding him silently for a moment before looking back at one of the men, "Get me that little blondie we used to lure them out."

Kurt watched them as one of the men went into the library and came out pulling Beth along, tied by her wrists to the rope he was using. Her face was red and splotchy, telltale signs that she had been crying, and probably a lot. As she was dragged along she too cried out in defiance, "You're all evil! You're all evil and you're going to regret this all!"

Sebastian smirked at her little tirade and then looked back to Blaine, "Examples must be made my Canary."

Blaine sucked in a breath and his eyes went wide along with the men who had stood beside Sebastian. Surely he couldn't be serious. She was only a little girl.

But Sebastian was already lifting his gun to aim, and Kurt didn't have time to watch anymore, much less plan an elaborate scheme. Beth was dead if he didn't do anything now and he was confident she didn't have any Other blood in her to bring her back to life.

Fluidly he shot, so quickly he surprised himself with how well his corpse moved. As soon as one arrow was launched another was in his hand and aimed and fired. He kept shooting, causing surprised cries and gasps of pain as he miraculously seemed to aim by feeling and not seeing. Each shot pinning it's victim in the hand so their guns fell to the ground where ready community members grabbed them as the took advantage of the sudden chaos.

It wasn't until the fifth arrow had been released that anyone was able to figure out they were coming from the same location and eyes and gun muzzles moved towards Kurt as they tried to determine who was attacking them.

It wasn't until the seventh arrow that anyone spotted him, and shots were fired. They were recklessly aimed though, and by the time they had a chance to shoot again, their guns were lost to the ground and their hand had an arrow piercing through the palm.

Kurt jumped from the roof to the wooden overhang and then to the ground with no pause or hesitation between his jumps. He saw eyes widen when people recognized him, knew he should be floating in a ditch still, and based on the attack he had just made, knew he couldn't possibly have done it by himself, at least, not without otherworldly skill.

Which it seemed he did.

The shock gave Kurt the chance to aim his last arrow at Sebastian, whose gun was in the process of being turned towards him but stopped the instant he realized his men were down and any chance he had of fighting back was futile. So he dropped his gun, lifted his hands towards the sky and glared at Kurt.

"You were supposed to be dead."

"Sorry to disappoint." Kurt snarled back and shifted his aim just a touch as he released the arrow into Sebastian's foot, causing the man to let out a slew of expletives and crumble to the ground as he took the offended foot in his hands to cradle it. Just because he had given himself up didn't mean Kurt was going to let him get away with killing him and doing all this to his home.

A slow glance around confirmed that power was back in the hands of community members. People were being untied and Warblers were being roped back up. He heard the hushed murmurs, felt the glances being directed at him, and smelt the fear and suspicion, but it was okay, his people were safe now.

As the adrenaline flowed out of him, he dropped his bow to the ground, suddenly overcome with debilitating weakness and dizziness. Kurt frantically looked around for honey eyes to ground him, but before he could find them, he was in a heap on the ground, passing out to the sweet voice of his lover calling for him. A voice he couldn't respond to as blackness overtook him for the second time that day.


	19. Chapter 18: Part One Ends

_**"Filthy water cannot be washed." - African Proverb**_

Kurt sat on a log, looking over the foundation he and Blaine had built overtop of the remnants of their own cabins. It would be bigger and stronger than either of their huts from before, and definitely more akin to a real house than what Kurt had existed in for the past decade. Behind him, Blaine was taking a break, playing a game of fetch with Pudding who was already pregnant again, though in the early stages apparently. Blaine knew those things. It was why he was training with Mike and Carole now as the closest thing the community would have to a veterinarian. He would do that, and work with the workers. He had been happy to accept the opportunity. With everyone now adopting dogs, and the horses getting to the point where their breeding really needed to be overseen, some kind of animal specialist was needed.

The community had built itself back up, and better too. The new homes were, just as his own would be, stronger and better suited to the weather out here, with a thick layer of sawdust insulation in the frame to keep the home warmer in the winter and cooler in the summer. For the home he and Blaine were making for themselves, Kurt had done a run to one of the closest abandoned villages and cut real fibreglass insulations out of the walls. He wanted the best for a new place. This home would be done right.

Even though right now it looked like little more than a stage with some poles coming out of it.

"Hey!" Blaine flopped down beside him on the log, out of breath and hair a tousled mess. "You're thinking too loudly."

Kurt shrugged his shoulders up, "Was…. just… reflecting."

"Mmmhmm…" Blaine nodded and widened his eyes just that little bit that told Kurt he didn't believe a word of it, at least not in the vague form Kurt had used.

"What?"

"Tell me."

Kurt sighed, head turning down to look at his hands which were in the process of wringing one another. "I just want to be able to explain myself."

"In general? Or with what happened again?"

Kurt rolled his eyes and glanced back up into honey, "You know. It's not like I have vocalized my frustrations enough around you anyhow."

Blaine did, Kurt could see it in his eyes. When Kurt had awoken, the night after he infiltrated the town and put down the usurpers, he had found himself in a bed in the medic's station, Mike, Carole, and Kitty all talking in hushed voices around him.

"He had scars… I'm not crazy right?"  
"You're not. I've seen them too. Heck, I've stitched him up a few times."  
"I thought you said he was shot."  
"He was. We saw it. Me, Noah, Quinn… everyone… all the people who had flanked had been brought around to see him floating in a ditch. It was red… the water was all red."  
"Well there's no sign of a gunshot, or any scars at all…"  
"What the hell happened?"  
"Why look at me? I don't have a clue!"  
"I swear… his ears are pointier than normal…"  
"You're not suggesting that…"  
"God no. He's been one of us forever."  
"How the hell else can this be explained away?"  
"Everyone else out there wants to know. What are we supposed to tell them."  
"Again! Stop looking at me. I. Don't. Know."  
"Someone better figure this out, and fast."  
"We can't get out of here until we get this figured out… they're all waiting outside…"

That was the point in which Kurt decided to save them the trouble and sat up, all of them going dead silent and staring at him wide eyed.

"Tell them the truth."

Mike blinked and looked from Kitty, to Carole, and then back to Kurt apprehensively, "Which is?"

"That I saved their asses from Sebastian and his cronies and they should be less worried about me and more worried about what Rachel and Finn are teaching in that school of theirs if Sebastian managed to get Beth and sneak her through the town. What the hell happened to teaching about stranger danger and what to do if a kid is kidnapped? I had to go through all that shit when I was in school."

He thought his joke (well, half joke anyhow) would at least bring a smile to their faces. It didn't.

"Kurt…. you had no pulse for an hour last night.. on top of the fact that a large proportion of the community saw you die earlier on in the day… what the hell…" Mike shook his head looking towards Kurt and waiting for an answer.

He hadn't seen his mother during his second death. In fact, it just felt like he had fallen asleep and was now waking up, sans the dreams. "I don't know… I can't explain it."

The last thing anyone needed to know was that Kitty's fears were right. He did have Other blood in him. Maybe only a quarter of him, but enough that it would cause panic and fear and completely unnecessary drama. He had saved them. His loyalty was to them. Why would it matter how he came back?

More glances were exchanged between the medics and it was finally Carole who had the sense of mind to come up with something.

"We say that Kurt passed out in the field because of shock. The blood was from a nosebleed. We could say he's got a history of them.. maybe even say he has seizures or something…. anything to explain how everyone saw what they saw…."

"What about how he was laying face down in the water?" Mike weakly asked, clearly not completely on board with lying.

Carole glanced from Mike to Kurt, who offered up a supply of the rest, "It was a plan…. I was breathing through a reed. I knew we couldn't take them then and there so I made it look like I died in order to come back and save everyone."

Carole nodded, apparently satisfied with that. "We're the only ones that knew about his pulse last night anyhow since Mike was the first one on the scene…"

"Not completely true." Kitty amended.

"Well Blaine is in the waiting room and you know he'll go along with whatever we tell him." Mike grimly added.

The medics nodded and then looked at Kurt curiously for a moment before Mike asked the real question, "Are you one of them?"

Kurt didn't need to come up with a lie for this. "I am, and always have been, one of you."

Mike's dark eyes danced a little as he thought and then nodded, "Okay. I'll let Blaine in if that's okay. He wouldn't leave."

Kurt laid back in the bed and nodded, "Yeah… that'd be fine."

The medics left him alone for a moment, and then he heard the stomping of feet and a rush towards his door which was opened with a sharp slam as Blaine launched himself towards the bed. "You're awake!"

"Apparently." Kurt grunted, scanning over Blaine's face. His lover was clearly elated, eyes all sparkling making his pupils look accented by honey hued glitter. Then he saw the butterfly bandage at the top of Blaine's forehead and the stitches on his cheek. "How are you?"

Blaine sat gingerly down on the edge of the bed, reaching to take one of Kurt's hands in his own, "Fine.. fine… god… I thought you… I mean I saw…. " He gulped, and Kurt could see that he was forcing back tears. That was the last thing Kurt needed right now. He was in no mood to console anyone.

"I'll explain it later Blaine… for now… can we just maybe enjoy the fact that we get a second chance? If that's okay with you?"

"God yes."

There was kissing, and snuggling, and a great deal of happy bliss after that. When Mike and Carole finally decided to let Kurt go on the grounds that they couldn't find anything wrong with him, and ensured everyone had the same story to share to appease the general public, Kurt and Blaine went to survey the damage done to their huts.

"He made me show him where my hut was and burned it… out of spite I guess… and then yours too for good measure or something…." Blaine admitted to Kurt, voice full of guilt as Kurt walked into the steaming heap of what had been his place, looking for something, anything, to salvage and coming up dry.

"It's okay… we'll make a new one…" Kurt had murmured then, leading them up to this point, the base of a house before him, ready for the walls to be lifts on. Blaine and Trent had put some time into researching how to build a house from their limited selection of building how-to books before they started because Blaine was insistent that the home they had should be "just right".

Just right for what was the question that Kurt had. He hadn't asked it aloud though because there was no doubt that Blaine would come up with something fluffy in response that would melt Kurt's heart and for the next while Kurt needed to stay firm. He needed to be solid.

Thought it wasn't because of Blaine.

Everyone looked at him now differently. He thought things had been bad before, but now, despite saving their hides, they pulled their children away from him when he walked through town. A few people had apparently also asked that any meat they had at dinner was not killed by him, as if there was any difference.

But it didn't matter. He had Blaine, and Trent still spoke to him as if nothing had happened. Kitty, Mike, and Carole all knew to some extent, and still seemed okay with him if not a little weirded out. Even Karofsky still spoke to him even though he was one of the ones Kurt could have done with less of.

So it wasn't all bad.

Kurt had kept himself busy since the uproar, spending a good chunk of his day out in the wilds hunting and trying to come to terms with the epiphany of his existence. His evenings were spent chopping down wood for their new home, and trying to cut it with a handsaw to Blaine's specifications. He wished he could just steal one of the generators and a power saw for all the cramps his hand now suffered because of all the sawing he did.

Sebastian and his goons were still locked up - the sheriff's office now outfitted with proper locks - the key to which was kept in an undisclosed location that only Santana and Noah knew the location of. There was still no consensus on what to do with any of them, and so they sat and rotted down there under heavy guard. The "good Warblers", as they had come to be called, had asked to join the community seeing as how their group was in shambles and Blaine and Trent were staying anyhow. When it came to what to do with the "bad Warblers", the "good Warblers" were the only ones who had a consistent view of what to do - load them up on the wagon and ride them out far away somewhere.

Blaine, for his part, had been quiet on the whole matter. Kurt could see it upset him from the fire that seemed to light his eyes when it was brought up, but he pointedly did not want to talk about it. He wasn't past being angry over it all, especially with how Sebastian had intended to kill Kurt.

Trent was more vocal. He decried Sebastian not only for his little riot and hostile takeover attempt, but also for polarizing the Warblers for years. He explained that some of the Warblers in those cells could be rehabilitated because they just swayed to the side that seemed like it would be on top, while others, like Sebastian, needed to be dealt with severely. Trent was adamant that Sebastian couldn't stay though, not with him starting his family. He couldn't risk having that kind of danger close.

"What do you think we should do with them Kurt?" Mike had asked of him a few days after the dust had settled. "You did get hurt the worst by them after all…"

Kurt had shrugged. "In the old days, they killed people who were a threat because there was nothing more they could do with them… then as things modernised they made the prisons… and then came up with rehabilitation and all that… but now we're back to a primitive state… we have the mentality that people can be dealt with in humane ways, but not the means to do it… so I don't know… I really don't."

"Yeah… I think my vote will be for shipping them off…." Mike said, referring to the upcoming community vote on what to do with the lot of them. Several choices had been narrowed down including death, shipping them away, making them into slave labour, and working for rehabilitation rights. "What about you?"

"I'm not voting…" Kurt had said, earning him a look of shock from Mike. "There is no perfect solution.. and I don't want a say in anything that I might regret."

Blaine too, had decided to abstain.

"On one hand, I want them to pay for what they've done… but I know that some of them did worse than others… Plus… some of them have been my friends or more in the past… I just…." He sighed. "I don't want to be part of a mob seeking revenge against them."

Blaine didn't visit much though with any of the previous Warblers - good or bad. Since Kurt had awoken, the majority of Blaine's time had been spent either learning his new trade or with Kurt.

"Why aren't you afraid of me?" Kurt had asked the first night after he had woken up. They were staying temporarily in a room beside Trent and Kitty's - who had both decided to build a home new Blaine and Kurt as soon as theirs was up.

Blaine looked surprised by the question, bringing a hand over Kurt's face and setting it on his cheek, "Why would I?"

"Because I should be dead right now… because no human should have been able to do what I did to free you all… because… I'm different."

Blaine snorted at that, as if it was the most ludicrous thing that could be said. "You would never hurt me or anyone else you care about. Hell, you didn't even hurt them really bad. It was all shots to their extremities just to disarm them."

"But… that's not…. Blaine…" Kurt searched for the words to try and tell him.

"Look. Whether you're glowing and super tall or just as human as anyone else I'm going to love you. Now cuddle me already."

That was it. That was all. It was so simple to Blaine where for Kurt it was all unclear, but if Blaine could accept him as he was, then maybe he could too.

"The phones burned you know…." Kurt had said, wrapping his arms around Blaine. "You'll have to sing for me again."

"Whenever you want." Blaine had assured him with a smile, moving his hands to hold Kurt back just as securely.

As spring rolled into summer, the house was built and Kurt and Blaine helped Trent and Kitty with their home which would be about ten yards from their own. Scavengings into town were mostly focused on furnishing - getting new bed sheets, blankets, and even decorations. Kurt tanned fresh hides, but it wasn't like he could make up for the years of lost ones.

They moved in, much to Kurt's relief at being away from the town, and made sure to christen all three rooms of their new place - bedroom, cooking area and eating area, and storage. Blaine's design was simple yet perfect. It may of well of been a vacation cabin at a forest resort - and it was theirs.

As Kitty grew larger around the belly, the naming debate raged on. One thing that was certain though was whatever the first name might be, the middle names were going to be Blaine and Kurt. Kurt had pushed that, and because Trent and Kitty shared in the secret of his existence, they went along with it. Anything for their little one. Any kind of protection that could be offered.

Even if it was that of a quarterling or whatever the hell Kurt was.

"We could always move you know Kurt…. I'd be alright with it." Blaine said to him one night in mid summer after Kurt had become visibly upset when Beth was pulled away from him by Noah, whispers following. He knew what they were saying. It wasn't like it was a secret how reviled he was to most people in the town. They may have accepted the lie given to them, but that didn't mean they believed it.

"No… we can't…" Kurt had said back to him, thinking about how he was somehow linked to these people's protection from the Others. He didn't know how or why it worked, but his mother said it did, and even if they didn't all care for him, he couldn't say the same back. He wouldn't leave and subject them to whatever hell might come. If tolerating their stares and whispers meant they were protected, then that's what he'd do.

"It's still better here now than it was before you came." Kurt admitted, and that was truthful at least. Now he had Blaine, and Trent, and even Kitty to some odd degree. There would be a baby nearby soon that he'd be an unofficial uncle to and a dog that seemed to get pregnant as much as was possible. They had their new home, which was beautiful compared to any of the others around, and even though his dad was dead and gone, his name was embedded in the town wall.

So they stayed, welcoming the arrival of Kitty and Trent's son - Isaac Kurt Blaine Nixon, who Kurt was immediately enamoured with much to Kitty's relief as Kurt was happy to take care of the baby at night when Kitty was too exhausted. Pudding kept having puppies, and Blaine made sure that they didn't only have a dog, but welcomed a couple cats into their home as well. Eventually Sam and Mercedes came around and would come to visit as well, increasing their circle of good friends to the point where they had regular get togethers, usually at Trent and Kitty's home since it was build larger and Trent was actually a decent cook.

If it hadn't been for the threat of annihilation by a magical race or the worry that Sebastian and his goons might return since the vote swung in favour of having them ridden out a weeks solid ride, it almost might have been a normal existence.

And for Kurt, it was more than he could have hoped for.

* * *

So that's it for this part of the story. Once I'm done PIB I'll come back and continue with Part II in the same file. Hope you've enjoyed so far!


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